Not of This World
by Vayluh Arwen
Summary: ON HOLD. The Doctor seeks reassurance by tracking down a familiar face, but, typically, little human Myra's not the only one being sought out. Time to start it all over again, with an old friend and older enemy... Sequel to Mbea's Trickster
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares

_'Not of This World' preview. **Chapter One: 'Nightmares'**. The start of a new day, and the Doctor's finally going to do what he should have done a long time ago._

_BTW - if you're finding this a little familiar, that's probably because it is. Half of it is my one-shot **Nightmares** (now deleted). If you've read **Nightmares**, just skip down until, like, the beginning of the **third sectiony-thingy**, that's where the new bit starts. Or read it all, whatever, I'm not your mother :)_

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Nightmares**

The Doctor looked at her. His Rose. Emotions sung from her face. Confusion and hurt and determination, _such_ determination, he'd forgotten she could be stubborn when she needed to. Her honey-brown eyes were sparkling with tears, her mascara running on her face. He almost smiled. How human. Going off to save the world, to save the universe, to save _all_ universes, and she'd stopped to do her hair, put on her makeup. How human. How _her_.

He moved his eyes. And him. _The Doctor_. The metacrisis. He averted his eyes, quickly. He knew what he was about to do. He knew what he _had_ to do. And it was killing him.

Her eyes were on his, the _other's_, confusion still there, but a spark of understanding moving through her, "You'll grow - grow old at the same time as me?"

The metacrisis' small smile was just like his,** "**Together."

Rose shook her head, her breathing heavy. It was hard to believe. So hard for her. She hesitated, and then moved softly forwards, putting up her hand, pressing it down on his chest. The Doctor knew she could feel his heartbeat, his single heartbeat, his _human_ heartbeat, and the thought of her touch sent an empty feeling echoing through his soul.

The TARDIS called to him from behind them, and he glanced round. He knew what it meant. He didn't have long.

"We've gotta go. This reality is sealing itself off." He paused for a second, looking at her, before he forced out the last word, "_Forever_."

He saw the hurt in her eyes, knew he had to be firm with her despite the fact that he so didn't want this to be happening, that he couldn't _believe_ it was happening. He was losing her again.

He turned, quickly so she couldn't see his face, and started towards the TARDIS.

"But... it's still not right."

He turned back, reluctant and willing to see her face again. She looked at him, licking her lips, a tear running down her cheek, fighting for words, always fighting, forever fighting. "'Cause... the Doctor's... _still __**you**_."

He nodded, slowly, "And I'm _him_."

Rose paused for a second, and then made up her mind, nodding, "Alright. Both of you, answer me this." The metacrisis walked closer, and they both faced her, hands in pockets, stances identical, "When I last stood on this beach... on the worst day of my life..." she stopped, drew on her strength again: "What was the last thing you said to me?" she looked at him first. The Doctor didn't reply, and she raised her eyebrows, showing her stubbornness again, "_Go_ on, _say_ it.

He swallowed, looking at her, knowing he could never do as she asked, never give her what she wanted, "I said, 'Rose Tyler'."

She waited, her eyes running over him, expectantly, "Yeah, and how was that sentence gunna end?"

He felt it this time, _really_ felt it, and forcefully stopped the tears from leaving his eyes, forcefully stopped his voice from shaking: "Does it need _saying_?"

Did it need saying? Yes. Yes, it did. But it _couldn't_. It _couldn't_ be said. Because _he_ couldn't.

She paused again, and then turned to the other, "And you, Doctor? What was the end of that sentence?"

He put a hand on her arm, leant down to her level, down to her ear, and whispered to her the one thing he could never say. Rose looked at him for a moment, and then pulled him closer, kissing him. Her lips, her kiss, and on him. The Doctor couldn't help but feel jealous. Broken and jealous.

He looked at her for a second. He could see his Rose, his precious Rose, and, back, to kissing her on the grated floor of Satellite Five, and, forwards, to seeing her again after all that time, after he had fallen into the pit of Hell, and then forwards again, to her looking at him with the same determination she had had a moment ago, after leaving her own mother, everything she knew, for _him_ - I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never gunna leave you - and then forwards again, to her hanging onto that lever, that damned lever - I've gotta get it upright! - and then -

No. No, don't think of that, don't think of that, it's _poison_. _All_ of it, all of it's just... _poison_.

He couldn't take any more. The Doctor turned, leaving the two on the beach there, as he knew it should be, as he couldn't accept that it must be, turned back to the TARDIS, and shut the door behind him.

* * *

No. Forwards. No, he couldn't do this. He couldn't watch this, couldn't do this again. Forwards, forwards. Just past this. Let this go. Please.

But she was still there, Donna, Donna Noble, leaning on the TARDIS console, doubled over with suppressed pain, agony both physical and mental. Her eyes shimmered. They locked onto him. Her voice trembled. "I was gunna be with you. Forever."

He nodded, gently, feeling it again, feeling his hearts catch again, "I know."

She shook her head, smiling through the tears, almost longingly, "Rest of my life. Travelling. In the TARDIS." She smiled again, but the expression wavered, "The _Doctor-Donna_."

He just watched her, unable to find anything to say.

Donna looked at him, shaking her head, and then took a step back, suddenly realising what he was going to do, what he was going to take from her, "No! Oh my... I can't go back. Don't make me go back. Doctor. _Please_. Please don't make me go back."

He was shaking. His eyes hurt again, prickled with suppressed tears, "Donna. Oh, Donna Noble. I am so sorry." He managed his own sad smile, "But we had the best of times. The _best_." He waited a beat, having to _force_ himself to do it, "Goodbye."

"No. No! No, please! Please, no! No! _No_!"

* * *

The Doctor opened his eyes. He didn't start. Didn't flinch. He didn't gasp, didn't pant for air, didn't jerk bolt upright. He just opened his eyes. He paused, looking at the ceiling. His hearts were beginning to calm. The dream. Oh God, that dream... If only he could suppress it, get rid of it, like he did with the others.

But he'd long since realised that these dreams weren't just nightmares. If they were nightmares he would be able to get rid of them. If they were nightmares they wouldn't play so much on his mind, day and night, never stopping. But they did. Because they weren't just nightmares. He couldn't get rid of them because, truthfully, he didn't _want_ get rid of them. Because that was the real truth of it. They weren't nightmares.

They were all he had left.

He sat himself up and moved through to the console room, quickly. He paused, looking at the controls. He just... couldn't bring up the passion. He couldn't do it. But he _had_ to. He couldn't stop.

He looked at the console for a moment longer and then turned his back. Where would he go, what would he do? There was no-one here for him to fool. He was alone once again. So many goodbyes. You'd think it would get easier. Not a chance.

The TARDIS called to him, sung to him, trying to soothe him. She still cared for him. She felt his pain.

"Just you and me again, old girl." He murmured, quietly.

The silence echoed back. It was too quiet. He waited, and then shook his head. The idea had moved through his mind quite a few times since that night. Since that... that... _night_. But could he manage that? Could he manage to go back there? Would it really make things any better, or could it only cause more pain? He didn't know, couldn't tell.

He paused, thinking about it, his logic battling with his emotions, as it often did. Then he shook his head again, made up his mind, and threw up the handbrake.

* * *

The Doctor paused by the door. Make or break time. He put up his hand, hesitated for one last second, and then knocked.

A rattle sounded from within the house, a series of low thumps, "_Damn_ it! Jack, can you get the door?"

"I've got my hands full!"

"Your _hands_ full? _Jack Cartwright_, you've _always_ got your bloomin' hands full!"

He smiled slightly. There was a low muttered voice on the other side, female, probably cursing under her breath, and then footsteps, a silhouette against the frosted glass window. His breath froze in his throat, and he could just imagine her walking frustrated up the hall, probably busy, maybe juggling with three different things, maybe it would be better just to...

No. It was too late. He heard the rattle of keys as she unlocked the door, and then pulled it open.

* * *

The Doctor's eyes easily translated her emotions, her amazingly human emotions, so genuine, so expressive, a rainbow of emotions, portrayed without a single word.

It started as pleasant welcome, courteous, small smile, her opening-the-door face, and then it changed into amazement, absolute amazement. Then came the real smile, the joy, the amazed joy - I thought I'd never _see_ you again! - followed closely by a touch of confusion - But what are you doing here? - and then hesitation, concern, seeing something on his face, something in his eyes. She took half a step forwards, and then realisation hit her - Oh - a stunned realisation, such deep concern, empathy, like she _knew_, like she _understood_ - Oh God - she put a hand up to her mouth, shaking her head.

She took an abrupt step forwards, grabbing hold of him and dragging him down to her, her hands tight and soft on the back of his neck, ineffectual and comforting, unwanted and needed, her voice soft and quavering, so genuine, "I'm sorry." Myra Hull pulled back, looking at him, fixing him with her dark green eyes, the eyes that held a depth he had seen in few humans, and she tightened her grip, her tongue moving subconsciously over her lips, "I'm _so_... _so sorry_."

The Doctor nodded, silently, not saying a word. He believed her.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2: The Domestic Approach

_Not of This World chapter two: **'The Domestic Approach'. **Over mugs of tea (as it always is, and always **should** be) the Doctor and Myra discuss recent history. And the oncoming future._

Surprise, surprise - I don't own Doctor Who.

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**Chapter 2 - The Domestic Approach**

Myra settled down in a chair, gesturing the Doctor to another beside her, "Sorry about the mess."

He looked around him, smiling, "This isn't mess. This is... _clutter_. Clutter's good. I like clutter."

She smiled back, "Having seen the inside of the TARDIS I wouldn't disagree."

"Oi! I keep things _very_ tidy, thank you."

"You've _got_ to be joking..."

He smiled, looking her up and down, "You look different."

Myra raised an eyebrow, "Different _bad_?"

"No, just... _different_. What's with the costume?"

She smoothed down her prim white shirt, consciously, "Uniform. Police issue."

"_Police_?"

"Yeah. Well... technically I'm still in training."

"So you didn't stay working at Spar then?"

She smiled, "_Course_ I didn't. I mean, how _could_ I, after all we'd done. This world may not have aliens but it's still got people in need of help."

His smile grew, "Myra Hull, defender of the people. Can't argue with that." Then he hesitated, nodding his head towards the kitchen where jangling metal could be easily heard, "Or is it Myra _Cartwright_ now?"

"What?" then she realised what he was saying and laughed, shaking her head, "Oh, _God_ no. Jack's just a friend, moved in around three months back." She turned on her chair, "Jack! Come in here!"

"Whoa, wait, what if he recognises me?" the Doctor said, quickly.

She smiled, "Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem."

Jack moved into the room, tapping with his long white cane, "Who was at the door?"

She smiled again, getting to her feet, "Jack, this is John Smith, a friend of mine. Left."

He turned slightly to his left and held out a hand, "Pleased to meet you."

The Doctor immediately got to his feet and took his hand, "You too."

"I was just making tea, you want some?"

Myra moved forwards, putting a hand on his shoulder as she passed, "Y'know what, Jack, you sit down, I'll make it."

"It's okay, I'm fine."

"No, honestly, don't worry about it, sit down."

Jack gave a small smile and shook his head, "Overbearing, isn't she? My friend is a silly guide dog."

The Doctor smiled, "You got that right."

"How d'you know each other, then?"

"Oh... we go _way_ back." He turned to her and shot her a wink, "Nine hundred million years, isn't that right?"

"See, I _knew_ she was lying to me about her age." Jack replied, smiling mischievously, "Something you're not telling me, Myra?"

"Oh, don't you two gang up on me, don't you dare. John - kitchen, _now_."

He followed her meekly into the next room, and she turned back to him, leaning back on the counter. She looked him up and down, critically, and then raised an eyebrow, "You look older." She said, simply.

He glanced down at himself, consciously, and then just nodded. She continued appraising him for a moment, and then shook her head, "Tea?"

"Tea?"

"Yes, tea. Y'know, a noxious infusion of oriental leaves containing a high percentage of toxic acid." She smiled as she registered the recognition in his eyes, "_Geek_, remember?"

He hesitated, staring at her for a moment, still not used to someone knowing every centimetre of his life, someone able to just quote his words straight back to him like that. Then he shook his head, "Yeah. Yes, please."

She nodded, picking up a teapot from the counter beside her, and started pouring the boiling brown liquid into two mugs, getting another from the cabinet in front of her. She opened the fridge and took out a pint of milk, pouring some into each mug and stirring them with a teaspoon.

He looked at the glass bottle for a moment. Someone had stuck two pieces of Velcro on it, shaped into a cross. Something for Jack, he presumed. He frowned slightly. She didn't seem to show any awkwardness at this at all. And they'd been living together for only three months? It sounded like an indefinitely short time to him. Especially for her to be just so... _used_ to him.

No. It wasn't that that surprised him, that almost _pleased_ him. It was _her_. Myra didn't need time to adjust to anyone. She was too genuine, too unshakable. Too... _human_.

"Two or three sugars?"

"Sorry?"

"You used to take three. More recently you take two. Which is it?"

He paused again, "Two."

"Right." She did as he said, and then handed him the mug, picking up the other, "Back in a sec."

She took the tea out to Jack, placing it neatly on the table in front of him, "There you go, Jack, front and centre."

"As apposed to on my right and on the floor. Or attached to the ceiling."

"Hey, you know what, screw you."

"I mean, thank you?"

"That's more like it."

She turned back, and caught his smile, "What are _you_ smiling at?"

The Doctor smiled again, "You."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose that was kind of an obvious question there, wasn't it?"

"Yep."

She moved back in again, pushing the door closed, picking up her own mug with both hands, despite the ninety-three degree temperature, and sipping it, thoughtfully.

He followed her example, looking at her, "How have you been?"

She gave a small, casual shrug, "Not bad. Quite well, in fact."

"And the family?"

"Good, they're... good. You know... _better_."

He bit his tongue, subconsciously, remembering all too well when they had been worse, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise, Doctor. Honestly. You've got nothing to apologise _for_."

"I've got a _lot_ to apologise for, and you know it."

"Well then I don't _want_ you to apologise."

"And what I want doesn't get a say, right?"

She smiled, gently, holding up her mug to him for a moment before taking a long sip, "Right." She looked at him for a second, her eyes like a hawk's, "But what about you. How are you coping."

He looked at her, "Do you know what happened."

There was a brief pause. "Yes."

"How do you think I'm coping."

"Not very well, seeing as you're here." She took another sip, looking at him, taking her time, "Why _are_ you here, Doctor."

"Truthfully? I don't know."

"_I_ do. And I think _you_ do, too." Myra paused, and then shook her head, smiling slightly, "But it's your lucky day. 'Cause I don't wanna talk about it just as much as you don't." she looked at him, and then shook her head again, her smile growing, "I'm just... I'm just so glad you're _here_!"

He felt a trademark grin spread across his face, "I said I'd visit, didn't I?"

She hit him across the arm, "It's been six _months_! What the hell took you!"

"I've been, y'know... busy."

"That is _no_ excuse, mister!" she calmed a little, shaking her head, "Especially for a Time Lord."

"Even a Time Lord gets his dates mixed up occasionally."

"_Occasionally_?" she repeated, scathingly, "Doctor, if you're on time for something it's because pure luck made you stumble into the right place at the right time."

His smile broadened, "I supposed I am a bit..."

"Useless?" Myra completed, raising an eyebrow.

"That's not the word I'd use."

She smiled, "I bet it's not." She smiled at him for a moment, then seemed to suddenly remember something, "Oh!" she said, startling him a little, pushing her mug of tea onto the counter so quickly it almost spilled, "Of _course_! Wait right here, I'll be right back."

She left the room, swiftly, leaving a somewhat bewildered Doctor staring at a painted pine door.

_She's getting more and more like me every day_. He thought, amused, a grin moving over his face.

He turned round, surveying his surroundings, thoughtfully. He opened a random cupboard, and looked through it. Mugs and cups. He closed it, casually, and opened the next one. Jams, bottles, jars. He ran a hand over a label.

"Found what you're looking for?"

* * *

The Doctor turned to the man in the doorway, "Oh... hi, Jack."

The blind man moved further into the room, "What you looking for?"

"Oh, I..." he looked around him, quickly, only then realising what he had been doing, "Sugar." He replied, finally.

Thankfully, Jack nodded, "On the left counter."

He nodded, slowly, and turned to the left. Then he frowned.

The man seemed to sense his confusion, as he gave a small wry smile, "Sorry, stage left, not your left."

"Ah." He turned again, and picked up the sugar that he had already found quite some time ago, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

He took the teaspoon Myra had used and put another spoon of sugar in his tea - not because he wanted it, but because he knew Jack would be able to tell if he didn't. He stirred it, absentmindedly, becoming more and more aware of the man's blind stare.

It took him a few moments to speak his thoughts: "Have we... have we met before?"

The Doctor looked at him for a moment, "I... I don't see _how_... I've just... moved up from... London."

"London? Whereabouts?"

"Putney Common." He replied, automatically, glancing over his shoulder to the door, praying Myra would come back soon.

"Oh. Right. Okay, then. It's just..." he took a step forwards, frowning slightly, "You just sound really familiar."

"Oh. Do I?" he asked, slightly nervously. He took a subtle step back, "Y'know, lots of people say that, they say it all the time, I don't really know why, it's just, maybe it's just -"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine!" he replied, making a good effort at sounding casual, "Yeah, absolutely fine, everything okay here! Uh... how are you?"

Mercifully, Myra moved through the door at this moment, "Male bonding, are we?"

Jack smiled, "Hey, Myra. No, I was just saying John sounds really familiar?"

"Does he?" she asked, causally, and the Doctor was amazed by how easy her voice sounded, "Loads of people say that. You know who they think he sounds like?"

"Who, I can't work it out."

She smiled, slowly, "David Tennant. Doing his English accent. Y'know, the Doctor."

The Doctor's eyes widened at the audacity of this statement, whereas Jack just clicked his fingers, smiling, "_That's_ it, of _course_. Not a Doc Who fan, myself, but Myra's damn near _obsessed_ with it."

He turned his eyes to her, raising an eyebrow, and she blushed, "I, I'm not _obsessed_. He's... he's exaggerating."

"Am I?" he shook his head, a playful smile making its way round his lips, "There's a new episode out this Sunday. _Waters of Mars_. Myra was _gutted_ when she found out she had a shift at the same time, already set it to record."

"I've always wanted to go to Mars." The Doctor mused, absentmindedly.

Jack laughed, "Haven't we all."

"A new episode..." he glanced at Myra, smiling, "Maybe we could watch it together?"

"No." she replied, immediately, firmly. Jack raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head, "John's... John's still on season four." She looked at him, pointedly, "You don't _like spoilers_. _Do_ you, John."

He sighed, "I guess not."

A car beeped from outside and Jack twitched his head to the sound, "That'll be Ann, I better get going. Nice to meet you, John."

"You too."

Myra put a concerned hand on his arm, "Want me to help you out?"

"That'd be nice. Knowing her she's probably parked across the street again..."

She smiled, and then shot a glance at the Doctor, "Won't be a second."

He shook his head, gesturing for her to go ahead. She smiled, and then led Jack out of the room.

* * *

"He's a funny one, that John. D'you know that?"

Myra grinned, "Yep. He's an old friend, always has been a bit... y'know. _Off_."

"Does he _look_ anything like Tennant?"

"Tall, skinny, brown hair, nothing like him."

"Right, okay. See you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure." She led him right the way to the door, automatically placing his hand on the handle, "You have fun."

"I'm sure I will." He mocked, shaking his head.

She smiled, and then planted a kiss on his cheek before he could get in.

He wiped it off, as she knew he would, "Aw, My-My, I didn't know you cared."

"Get in, you idiot." She slid the door shut, "And _don't_ call me My-My!"

He laughed, and Ann pulled out. She watched the car leave, and then a smile spread onto her face and she practically ran back into the house.

* * *

"So what you got for me?"

"Huh?" Myra stared at him for a moment before remembering, "Oh yeah!" she took a small wooden box off the table, handing it to him, "Here. Open it."

The Doctor paused for a moment, watching her, almost warily, "What's in it?"

"Just _open_ it!"

He hesitated again, and then shook his head, turning to the box in front of him. Then he popped it open. He looked inside it for a moment. Then he looked back up at her, a smile moving quickly onto his face, "It's my clockwork mouse."

She grinned, "Yep. It's your clockwork mouse."

"You _kept_ it?"

"Well, of _course_ I did! You told me you'd come back for this, didn't you?"

"Of course I would!" he smiled, teasingly, "And, now I've got it..."

"Don't you dare!" she interrupted, laughing, "Don't even _joke_ about it, mister! You're not going anywhere!"

He looked at her for a moment. A small smile still lingered around his lips, "Well. What if you were... to go _with_ me."

She looked at him. Her smile faded. "Are you saying...?"

"Do you _want_ to?" he asked, seriously. He paused, "One more trip. For old time's sake."

She looked at him for a long time. The Doctor hesitated, and then shook his head, "Well, if you don't want to, I'll understand, it was just... just an idea, y'know? Doesn't matter if you don't -"

Myra held up a hand, stopping him. Then she smiled, slowly, "I'll just go get my bag."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I... I think I'd like that. _One last trip_."

"Really?" she nodded, and relief and undeniable excitement swelled within him, "Fantastic. I could... I dunno, wait for you at the TARDIS, if you need to pack, or something...?"

She smiled again, mischievously, "Oh, it won't take me a second. I'll just get changed. I've been waiting for this day for six months, remember?"

He looked at her, incredulously, "You're already packed?"

She gave him a wink, "I'm _very_ organised." She turned to the door, her pace quickened by her apparent excitement. He followed her to the stairs, and she stopped, halfway up, pointing at him, "Don't you go anywhere."

He grinned, "Wouldn't dream of it."

She echoed his smile. And then ran up the rest of the way.

The Doctor smiled broadly at her enthusiasm. He returned to the kitchen, retrieving the clockwork mouse, smiling at it before placing it back in his pocket. He picked up his mug of tea, taking a long sip. Myra Hull... He had thought before in the TARDIS that this decision could either be the best or worst of his lives.

So far... he was banking on best.

Myra Hull. So human. So... _energetic_, such a lust for life. Little Myra, who, when offered the whole universe, all of time and space, refused so another woman could be allowed the pleasure. Human Myra, who, when given another offer of a single trip, chose simply to see her own galaxy, from above, from within, all the plants swirling around her. The girl who cried when she saw them. And wasn't ashamed.

He looked at the door for a moment, a small smile playing around his lips. She was just as he remembered her. He leant further back against the wall, bringing the mug again to his lips.

Then, typically for any gathering involving the Doctor, things started to go wrong.


	3. Chapter 3: Gatherings with the Doctor

_Not of This World chapter three: __**'**__**Gatherings with the Doctor**__**'. **_

"The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, he's there. He has a storm in his wake. And he has one constant companion."  
"Who's that?"  
"Death." _(Doctor Who, S01E01)_

_See at the bottom? No copyright. Meaning, I don't own Dr Who :)_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 3 - Gatherings with the Doctor**

Myra came pelting down the stairs, still in her uniform, seeing the open door and running straight through it, "What the _hell_ was _that_?!"

The Doctor was looking up and down the street, urgently, and barely spared her a glance, "Would you believe a car backfiring?"

"No."

"Okay. Then it was a massive explosion."

"A _what_?!"

"A massive explosion." He took off, "This way!"

Myra adjusted the bag on her back, quickly, and ran after him, muttering a few choice swearwords under her breath. This could be very very bad...

"What's down this way?" he yelled over his shoulder.

"I don't know! Wait a sec... we're on Broomfield Road! So... the post office. No! No, uh... the Beeches... a few shops... uh... Salop's..."

"Anything important?"

"What d'ya _mean_ _'important'_?!"

"I mean like army bases, huge shopping centres, factories that employ animal testing, anything worth blowing up!"

"No!" then she froze, "Wait! Wait, wait, there's... there's the train station!"

"How far?"

"Less than half a mile! _Much_ less! We can be there in five minutes!"

The Doctor shook his head, "Let's be there in two, come _on_!"

He doubled his pace and Myra forced herself to match it, running full out beside him.

"Why... do all meetings with you... have to involve a goddamned explosion?!" she managed, panting, struggling with the taller man's pace.

"No fun otherwise!"

"God." She moaned, shaking her head, "I hate you."

He shot her a grin and kept running.

* * *

Finally, they shuddered to a halt, "This is the train station?"

"Oh God." Myra breathed, shaking her head, slowly, her heart pounding in her chest.

The whole place was a mess. Debris scattered the floor, and the whole sky was thick with black smoke. The Doctor ran forwards, and Myra managed to pull herself together enough to grab his arm, "Are you _mad_? Half the damned _roof's_ caved in! It's not safe!"

"Since when did that ever stop us before?"

He kept moving towards the building, and she shook her head, and followed him. The door had been flattened over the entrance, and Myra immediately moved him out the way, breaking it down with two strong kicks.

The smoke immediately swallowed her, pricking at her eyes and lungs. She covered her mouth with her hand and breathed quickly and shallowly, crouching down to get as low as she could. The Doctor ignored it, completely, moving further through the dismantled structure.

Inside was a wreck. Metal and plastic was thrown around the small room, leaving only blackened, smouldering remains. Fires burned, what was left of the walls caked with soot.

Apart from the crackle of the fire, the room was silent.

"Is anyone hurt?" the Doctor yelled, looking around him, "Anyone?"

There was no reply. He moved further in, shooting cautious looks at the caved-in ceiling, getting down onto his knees and digging feverishly at the debris, pulling aside parts of dismembered wall, searching. Nothing. No-one.

"Something's wrong." Myra found herself saying, shakily, "It's five o'clock on a Friday. It should be full. It should be busy."

"I know. Where _is_ everyone?"

"You think they had warning?"

He spun around to her, running a hand through his hair, distractedly, "Warning?"

"Y'know. Of a terrorist attack, or something."

"Terrorist attack? No offence, Myra, but if you're a terrorist you go for London, Birmingham, Liverpool... not Admaston."

"Then what the hell _is_ it."

"I don't know." But he paused, looking around him, shaking his head, slowly, "But I've got a _really_ bad feeling about this..."

Myra nodded, slowly. She looked around her. She tried to think over the pounding of her heart. Then she shook her head, coughing a little on the smoke. She could barely breathe. The Doctor caught the sound and glanced her over, quickly, concerned. He took her by the arm, firmly, "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

"But what if -"

"There's no-one here, Myra, and, if there is, there's nothing we can do for them. Come on."

* * *

The Doctor dragged her back, away, out of the torched building, out into the sunlight. Myra kept walking a few steps, shaking her head, her stupor fading and turning into a sort of adrenaline-fused panic, "There's no way that train station would be empty. Not a chance in hell. There'd be _some_one, there's _always_ _some_one. So where the hell were they?"

"I don't know. But we're gunna find out."

She shook her head, "No. We've gotta get out of here."

He looked at her, "Why."

"Pretty soon... people are gunna be flocking around this place. Police, ambulance, public... And you'll start a riot. C'mon. _Now_!"

She pulled him along, running, following the track until she came across the abandoned brick building she knew so well. She looked the wire fencing over, quickly, and then found the gap underneath it. She fell to her knees without a second's thought, and crawled underneath it.

"Here. No-one will find us here."

"How did _you_ find here?"

She shook her head, distractedly, reaching up to the rusty, corrugated iron covers on the windows, trying to pull it down a little, "Madeleine. She is... the _master_ of hide and seek."

He reached up, helping her yank across the covers, "How long did it take you to find her?"

"Three hours. Oh, here we go."

The covers finally gave way a little, flooding the room with a dusty light, and she stood up on her toes to look through the gap. She had been right. A flock of people were already gathering on the destroyed building, and she could hear sirens in the distance.

She swore violently under her breath, and felt the Doctor's surprise. She glanced up at him and shook her head, "Blame police academy. Now. A train station in Admaston. One tiny little train station." She looked at him again, almost pleadingly, "Tell me it's the line. Tell me it's just a coincidence, that it's just... faulty wiring, or something."

"Sorry, Myra, I don't think so."

"Yeah. Little that happens around you is coincidence." She watched the crowd for a moment, and then turned back to him, almost reluctantly, "So what was it."

He paused for a moment. His attention was fixed on the station, and Myra could almost hear the cogs turning. She just looked at him, waiting, recognising the expression easily as one of intense thought, knowing that her speaking would only distract him.

But the fact that he wasn't vocalising these thoughts... meant it was something he didn't think she'd want to hear. And that... that couldn't be good.

"Doctor." She said, quietly.

He looked at her. His expression didn't change.

"What's going on."

He paused for a long time. Then he moved his attention back to the station, "When we were in there... did you notice anything odd?"

"I'm assuming you mean besides the lack of people?"

"Yeah. Anything a bit... weird?"

"No. No, I don't think I did. Why?"

He licked his bottom lip. Then he shook his head, distractedly, "It's not, not really, I, I... I mean, I know the signs of disintegration beams when I see them, but the calibre, the amount of unstable paratrions in that place was un_believable_, I've never _seen_ such crystallisation, and, if _I_ don't recognise it - well, I suppose we could try and get it back to the TARDIS for a full scan, but I still don't know whether -"

"Stop." she interrupted, suddenly. She waited for a moment, "You said disintegration beams. What the hell do you mean."

"Myra, I don't think this was an accident. And... I don't think this was terrestrial."

Myra's heart stopped, "_Terrestrial_?" she repeated, weakly, shaking her head, slowly, "No. No, Doctor. It can't be. I've told you before, this is a _parallel world_, we don't _have_ aliens!"

"Did you see the scorching on the walls? Scorching even where there was no fire?"

"There'd just been an _explosion_, Doctor!" she argued, heatedly, anger building in her panic.

"No. Something went on in that station. Something happened there before the explosion."

"It's not _possible_, Doctor, that sort of stuff doesn't _exist_ in this world!"

"_I_ exist in your world."

"Yes, but that's just... just a... _technicality_! How much energy does it take you to get through the Blockade every time? You're _travelling to a parallel __**world**_!"

He gave a small, frustrated sigh, shaking his head. Then he paused. "So. This is your perfectly normal, perfectly average, perfectly boring world."

She nodded, "Yep."

"Just as you know it, hasn't changed a bit."

"Nope."

The Doctor nodded tentatively at the window behind her, "And that includes the spaceships?"

Myra spun on her heel, following his gaze. She paused. She looked at him. Then she was running.


	4. Chapter 4: Coincidences

_Not of This World __chapter four: __**'Coincidences'.**__ Myra is yet again reminded of what a trip with the Doctor is all about._

Doctor Who belongs to the BBC... and Russell T Davies... and maybe David Tennant, what the hell :) - but not me :(

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Coincidences**

Myra shook her head, fear and anger attacking her senses, "Oh no. No no no, don't you dare. Doctor, don't you _dare_!"

"_What_, this isn't _me_!"

"It's _always_ you, and I'm telling you now - this can't happen. This planet doesn't _have_ aliens, there _is_ no life out there, _nothing_! _Get those damned things away_!"

The Doctor was shaking his head too, staring in horror up at the sky, "They must have followed me, followed me through the Blockade."

She rounded on him: "Then send them the _hell_ back! Return to sender! _NOW_!"

"If it were that easy I'd have _done_ it already!" he shook his head again and then started burying in his pockets, "Just, just give me a second, let me just..."

Myra shook her head, incredulously, and then looked back up. Her heart clenched in her chest. There were six of them, now. Clear against the smoggy sky. Six... flying... saucers.

Except they didn't look like saucers, didn't look anything _like_ the typical 'UFO'. They had a round, half-sphere sort of top, and then a small section extending down, like streamlined mushrooms. They were a bright, bright silver that glittered in the sunlight, and, instead of spinning like a top, moved move like some space-age sort of jellyfish, the section on the bottom swaying in and out, keeping the ship up in the air.

Myra shook her head again, feeling almost weak, "D'you recognise them?"

There was the slightest pause. "Yes." He replied, almost tersely.

She looked at him, waiting, and then shook her head, "Well what _are_ they? Sycorax, Sontarans, Slitheen, _what_?"

"Why does it have to begin with 's'?"

"_Doctor_?!"

He looked at them for a second, and then looked back at her, "We have to go. Now. We have to get you out of here."

"Why, who are they."

He grabbed her arm, pleadingly, "We haven't got time, Myra, we have to go."

She wrenched herself away from him, "No. No, I'm not leaving." She pointed at the ships, wildly, emphatically, "Doctor, those things... are they dangerous?" he just looked at her, and she shook her head, "This is my _world_, Doctor. There are fifty people there around the station. _Are they dangerous_."

He looked at her for a beat, "Not for them."

She easily translated the meaning behind his words: "But they are for me. And for you."

"Yes. We have to go. _Now_."

Myra looked at him. Then she nodded, "Fine. But explain on the way."

* * *

"So they must've... followed you through the Blockade... right?" Myra's breath was caught in her throat. Distantly, she noticed that this sudden race with the Doctor was, while gruelling, a hell of a lot easier than last time. Police academy had _one_ thing going for it, at _least_...

"Yeah." He replied, sounding, as usual, as if they were taking a gentle stroll through the park, "That's the only way they could've got through, travel to parallel worlds is -"

"Impossible, yeah, you've... you've said before. So. Doctor. Who are they."

"They're... well, I mean I'm pretty _sure_ they're... the Shadow Proclamation."

"The _what_?!"

"The Shadow Proclamation. You know them?"

"Yes. I do." She thought for a second, her heart pounding in her chest, taking a corner, swiftly, "Police. Intergalactic police. But... why are they after _you_?"

"No idea. But I'm not gunna hang around to find out. C'mon."

Myra shook her head and gave a small, slightly hysterical laugh, "I'm a recruit running from the police. If there's a God up there, he's got one hell of a sense of humour."

The Doctor shot her a quick grin, and then dragged her around another corner, "This way!"

"You remember where you parked her this time?"

"Perfectly."

"Where?"

"Over there."

He nodded in front of him, and she followed the gesture. The TARDIS was standing about sixty or seventy feet away from them. Right in the middle of a cornfield.

She shook her head, incredulously, "I thought I told you to park _inconspicuously_! You've stuck her in the middle of a field!"

The Doctor gave a small, exasperated sigh, and shook his head, condescendingly, "Myra, let me tell you something about the human race. You put a mysterious blue box slap bang in the middle of a field and what do they do?"

"Hang around and wait for the owner to show up?"

He shook his head, looking at her like she was clearly missing the point, "I thought you knew my words better than I did? No, they walk right past it."

"_No_, they hang around and wait for the owner to show up." She nodded at it for emphasis, "Just like that girl has there."

He frowned, and then looked up. His eyes widened. But, before he had time to speak, his words were drowned out by an ear-piercing shriek.

"_DAVID TENNANT_!!"

* * *

"Oh no." He moaned, shaking his head.

"Oh yes." Myra replied, allowing herself a little smug frustration, "See, the human race isn't quite as brain-dead as you thought!"

"_David Tennant_!" the brunette repeated, excitedly, obviously thrilled beyond the capacity for words.

The girl started towards him and he took an immediate step back, holding up his hands as if he were trying to keep her away, "No no no no no, get rid of her. Myra. Please. I, I don't... I don't do this - Myra? Get _rid_ of her."

Myra gave something close to a smirk, watching the girl who was now running towards them, "You want me to?"

"Yes. Myra. Please. Come on. Get rid of her."

She gave a playful, mocking sigh, "Alright. But you owe me."

The girl was a few feet away from them when Myra took one step to her left, in front of him, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."

"Oh, come on, please please please, just five minutes!" she pleaded, taking a few steps to try and see round her. Myra's mind gave a low moan. God. She was American. This just got a hundred percent harder.

Myra mirrored her movements, firmly, "I'm afraid not, Miss. Mr Tennant is on a very tight schedule - one he is currently running late for."

"Are you filming? Are you filming in the station?"

She hesitated, and then shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't disclose that information, now, if you would please -"

"But you can't be filming the Christmas episode, right?" she interrupted, immediately, "It's far too late for that." Realisation seemed to hit her and she practically jumped on the spot, "Oh my word, are you making an _appearance_?! After Smith takes over?! You're coming _back_?!"

_Spoilers_! Her mind screamed, and she took a step forwards, her mind rapidly thinking up a way to get rid of her, grabbing the girl's arm, talking in a low voice, "Look, it is illegal for us even to be having this conversation, please, leave."

"You _are_!" she repeated, excitedly, "You're making a return! Oh my word, this is _fantastic_! See, I told Robin, I told her, 'Spaceships? What, are you _nuts_? They gotta be some sort of special effect or something!' I _knew_ they looked fake."

"Look, just, just listen. Listen here." Myra paused, as if weighing up her options, and then shook her head, "You're a Doctor Who fan, of course?"

"Oh, I'm _more_ than a _fan_, I'm literally the biggest -"

"Alright, fine." She cut over her, firmly, "Mr Tennant will give you a personal autograph if you leave here right now and _promise_ not to mention this... whole little encounter."

"Oh my word, _really_?!"

"Really really." The Doctor said, finally seeing to catch where she was going.

"Oh _thank_ you! Thank you, _thank_ you!"

He took a few steps forwards, around Myra, having already taken a notepad and pen from his inside jacket pocket, "What's your name?"

"Sarah," the girl gushed, "And it is an _honour_ to meet you, Mr Tennant, sir!"

"Right, Sarah, glad you... glad you enjoy the show."

"Oh, I love it - love it love it _love_ it! My favourite was 'Girl in The Fireplace', that was _unbelievable_! And '42', _wow_, that was _amazing_!"

He gave a slightly uneasy smile and nodded somewhat vaguely, "Yeah, that was... difficult to... to, er, film." He glanced down at the paper in his hands and then turned to Myra, moving his mouth to her ear and lowering his voice: "What's my name again?"

"Tennant, David _Tennant_."

"Right, okay."

She watched him over his shoulder, "_Two_ 'n's, _two_ 'n's."

"Righty-oh."

He signed the name over a quick ballpoint sketch of the TARDIS - remarkably good, reminding Myra of that episode back as John Smith, 'Human Nature' - and then handed it to the girl, who actually jumped on the spot, "Oh my word that's just _awesome_! Fan_tastic_! Thank you so much!"

"You're... you're welcome."

Myra shot the ecstatic girl a smile, and then leaned back to his ear, "Kiss her."

He looked at her, eyes wide, "_What_?!"

"Just do it. Kiss her. On the cheek." He continued staring at her, horrified, like she'd asked him to fly the TARDIS into the sun or something, and she shook her head, "C'mon, it means nothing, seriously, really, _nothing_, just do it."

He hesitated. Then he turned to Sarah, almost reluctantly, and bent down to her height, kissing her on the cheek.

The girl turned absolutely crimson, practically melting on the spot, "Oh my god oh my god oh my GOD!" she cleared her throat slightly, managing to calm herself down a little bit, "Thank you!"

"You're welcome?"

Myra fought hard to suppress her grin. She shook her head, "Now, we really must be going."

"Yeah. Stuff to film, and all that."

"Not that we're filming, of course."

The Doctor nodded, putting on a grave, 'serious' face that made the desire to laugh even stronger, "Of course."

She cleared her throat, quickly, banishing the laughter, and turned, "Let's get moving, then."

No sooner had she said the words then a huge smash echoed through the air, a crash, smashing of metal and concrete, loud enough to send all three of them stumbling back a bit.

The Doctor grinned, turning around and speeding off to the TARDIS, "I think that's my cue!"

She smiled, and then glanced over her shoulder at the girl, leaning to her a bit, conversationally, "We can neither confirm or deny that. See ya!"

* * *

Myra had caught up within a few seconds, "You just made that girl's _life_!"

"Is she as big a science-fiction geek as you?"

She shook her head, "'Girl in The Fireplace' - series two, episode four; '42' - series three, episode seven." She smiled, broadly, "I think we just about match, to be honest."

"_You_ didn't scream at me when we first met."

"I'm not American. And, anyway, I was stuck in a hospital in the sixteenth century with a guy from a TV series, I think it's understandable I was a bit thrown at that point." Then she thought about it, "I'd _like_ to think that I wouldn't have screamed if I had seen David Tennant before, but... well, who knows, I'm a complicated person. Now. Back to the more important side... what the hell was that explosion."

"They're searching for me." He replied, shaking his head, "It's the only possible explanation. They've intensified their search."

"By blowing things up?!" she asked, incredulously, "Just how badly do they _want_ you!"

"I don't know. I don't know _what_ they want. But I'm not gunna hang around to find out." He shuddered to a halt in front of the TARDIS, nearly colliding with the door, and fumbled for his key, "This isn't their dimension. We've gotta get them out, get them back to my world."

"Good idea. How we gunna do that?"

He pushed in his key, "We're gunna give them some bait."

"Like _what_?"

He shot her a manic grin, "_Us_!"

"Oh no."

"_Oh_ yes!"

"_Doctor_!"

"Yes?"

He looked at her, with such an innocent expression that she couldn't find the words. She hesitated, opening her mouth a couple of times, and then just shook her head, sighing, "I'm gunna regret this..."

He shot her that grin again, "Don't know that 'til you've tried it!" he spun on his heel, running full pelt through the door, "Let's go!"

She shook her head and made to follow him. Until, suddenly, she wasn't in front of the TARDIS anymore.

* * *

Something strong hit her from behind, the small of her back, hard, and Myra was thrown to the floor, hands scrabbling for a grip on the grass, something pressing down into her from above, pinning her to the ground. She struggled round, dragging herself onto her back so she could see what was holding her.

It was a person, a man, straight on top of her, completely flat out, his weight pressing her down into the floor. She looked up at the figure pinning her down to the grass and stopped breathing.

"Well well. What have we got here?"


	5. Chapter 5: Familiar Strangers

_Not of This World __chapter five: __**'Familiar Strangers'.**_

"Chan- is this a tradition amongst your people -tho?"  
"Not on _my_ street!" _(S03E11)_

_Disclaimer - I do not own Doctor Who. Or the TARDIS. Which I think we all know would be awesome..._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 5 - Familiar Strangers**

The man gave a slow, cocky smile, "Captain Jack Harkness."

The Doctor's voice was, as it always was around his old friend, clipped and vaguely irritated: "_Stop that now_."

Myra rolled her eyes, wearily, "Oh good God, another Jack." She caught his almost surprised expression and raised her eyebrows, "What, is this the part where I'm supposed to say 'I don't mind'? Get your hands off me, flyboy."

She pushed him off her and pulled herself to her feet, dusting mud and grass off her once-immaculate police uniform. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, seemingly genuinely surprised that she hadn't immediately melted at the Captain's smooth tones, and then the expression moved into a grin, "Good girl."

"What am I, your dog? You can shut it too, alien."

Jack smiled, "Ooh, she's got a temper. I like it."

"_She's_ got a _name_." 'she' replied, her voice still slightly cool, but calming. The Captain didn't _really_ irritate her. She had just been caught by surprise. And, after her last brief trip with the Time Lord, she _hated_ surprises.

The Time Lord moved forwards, "Oh, of course. Jack, this is Myra, Myra Hull."

"Never heard of her. She new?"

The two men looked at each other for a moment. Neither one's expression could she easily read.

Then flyboy shook his head, breaking the moment, "Well. Nice to meet you, _Myra Hull_."

"Don't try it. I mean it. I'm tired and I'm angry and I need to vent at someone. My advice, Jack - don't let that someone be you."

He gave a mock wince, "Ouch. Cold."

Myra looked at him for a second, and then forced her voice to soften: "Yeah. Sorry." She left it at that. She turned back to the Doctor, "Now, _you_. Get in the TARDIS. _Now_. You too, flyboy, _move_ it! Before those ships decide to come blow _us_ up, too!"

She herded the two men inside, both looking at her with a strange sort of disgruntled surprise, and then shut the door firmly behind them. "So, Doc, just what the hell do we do now."

The Doctor raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Well, we start by you never _ever_ calling me _Doc_."

"I'll make that a promise, _Doc_, if you get us the _hell_ _**out**_ of here!"

He raised his eyebrows, and then gave a small, mock salute, "Yes Officer Hull, ma'am."

She narrowed her eyes, but decided it wasn't worth it to comment. Instead, she turned her attention back to 'flyboy', "Was there any _reason_ for tackling me, there?"

He shrugged, "I was running out of time. Figured it would be a way to make you stop, at least..."

She raised an eyebrow, "You've could've just called his name."

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have got to -"

"_Careful_." She warned, just as the Doctor said: "Jack..."

"- make a dramatic entrance." He finished, his eyes glittering. He laughed at her raised eyebrow, shaking his head, and took a few steps towards her, "You're so _tense_! You need to loosen up."

The Doctor shook his head again, barely looking up from the console, "Quit it, Jack."

"Why, she yours?"

"I'm _no_-one's, actually." She replied, acidly.

"Good." He smiled at her raised eyebrow, "But you said 'another Jack'. Just how disappointed should I be?"

"Very. I prefer mine." She glanced at the Doctor and rolled her eyes, "At least mine doesn't look me up and down every two seconds..."

"Myra Hull, if there is a man in this galactic sector not looking you up and down every two seconds then he is _blind_."

"Yeah, funny you say that, actually..."

The Doctor glanced over at them, distractedly, "Could you guys quit the flirting and help me here for a second?"

Myra bristled, "_I_ am _not flirting_."

Jack smirked and shot her a wink, giving her a too-friendly pat on the shoulder that ran down her arm before he moved to the Doctor's side, "What you after, handsome." He looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and Jack smiled, "What can I say, that new regeneration suits you."

"Thanks, now, we need to lock all systems open and close down all hardwired trip-switch defence systems, saving the shielding, of course - we need these things to follow us, and the TARDIS isn't going to like it, got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Myra, blue switches on the desk in front of you, alternate them, first up, second down, third up, fourth down, got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Let's get this thing in the air." Jack said, enthusiastically.

A beeping siren echoed through the room and Myra nodded, fervently, "They've found us. They're locking on..."

"As soon as they lock on we should stick the systems up to full," flyboy suggested, firmly, still messing around with something on the console, "Make sure they don't know they've been had."

She shook her head, "No, they know they're being led away, even an idiot could realise that, and those weren't Judoon ships, these aren't just mercenaries, they _really_ want this ship. Doctor, set the controls to random - they want a chase, let's give them one. But first we've gotta break back through that Blockade."

Jack shot her an admiring - if slightly surprised - glance, "Mmm, she's good this one, isn't she?"

She shook her head again, distractedly, moving around the console to throw up a few switches, "Well, let's see just how good, Jack - reverse the zero-dimensional closure. Doctor - the hydrospec interface thing, whatever it does - do it."

The Doctor seemed to do as she said, but, typically, still had a little gripe: "Who's in charge here, again?"

"I think that's quite obvious - at the moment, me. Okay, right, they've locked on, let's get _out_ of here!"

"Fantastic." The Doctor threw down a lever and then leant heavily on a switch, "Jack, I'd... grab onto something if I were you."

He frowned, "Why?"

"What, don't you remember?"

Myra frowned, already wrapping a strap tightly around her wrist, "But he must have come through the Blockade to get here, right?"

"Oh, I was unconscious for the ride." Jack replied, casually.

"What, _why_?!"

"Well, long story - let's just say it started with a drink in a bar."

She shook her head, quickly, holding up a hand, "Okay, hold it right there, I really don't think I wanna hear the rest. Just... hold on. This is gunna be a bumpy ride..."

* * *

The TARDIS jolted to a halt, and Myra found herself thrown backwards onto the metal floor. She winced for a moment, stretching out her shoulders, and then shook her head.

"Ouch." She managed through a quickly building laugh, "_God_, you think you'd get _used_ to this!"

But apparently not. Jack was flat on his back too, laughing, "Oh, I've missed this!"

"Me too!"

The Doctor looked down at them, as usual having been the only one that managed to stay on his feet, "You two busy down there or shall we go see where we've landed?"

Jack shot Myra a wink, and, still not quite off her adrenaline rush, she simply rolled her eyes. He jumped to his feet and then extended a hand, pulling her up too.

Myra shook her head, "Gimmie some slack, I'm only human."

"Yeah, but you've been through that thing twice before, remember?"

"I was unconscious the second time - doesn't count."

"You were unconscious too?" Jack asked, his eyes glittering.

She shook her head again, nonchalantly, "Actually, I was dying."

"Hmm. Happens to me quite a bit."

"Yeah, I've noticed. By the way, what _were_ you doing on Earth?"

"I'm _based_ on Earth, actually."

"Not _that_ Earth, you're not." She corrected, firmly, "How did you _get_ there?"

He hesitated, looking at her almost apologetically, "Uh... how would you react to me saying I couldn't remember?"

"Very badly." She promised, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh. Okay. Then I teleported there."

"An utter lie, but a smart move. So... we've no idea _how_ you were there... _why_ you were there... or _when_ you got there. Fantastic..."

He shrugged, giving her a pleasant smile, "That's how life is on hyper-vodkas, honey."

"I don't doubt... Wait, if those Shadow Proclamation guys are really following _you_ then I'm gunna kill ya. And if it's another case of _wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time_ then I'm gunna kill _both_ of you."

"Have fun with that, darlin'," Jack replied, cheekily, shooting her a grin, "I'm your resident immortal."

"Oh, trust me, I'd find a way."

"Are you finished?"

She glanced up at the Doctor, having almost forgotten his presence, "Yeah. Finished."

"C'mon, then, let's go!"

"Whoa, hold on, shouldn't we make another jump to make sure?"

He shook his head, "Nah, we've got a few hours on them, and now we're back in my dimension we could've landed on a completely uninhabited planet, how would we know? Outside could be a complete desert, or a snow planet, or... a boiling wasteland, some remnants of a long forgotten war, or -"

"Or a huge great big jungle?"

* * *

The Doctor spun on his heel, his eyes widening, "Where, let me see?"

He joined Jack by the door, looking out at their surroundings. Myra quickly moved over to their side, and her heart missed more than a beat.

Outside was... a huge great big jungle. Trees were all around her, covered by vines and leaves, bright colours contrasting mightily with the green background. Everything twittered and moved, flowers growing in the high grass, things she'd never seen before, so... _alien_. There were even new _colours_! She looked at them and just... couldn't name them. If she had been feeling less overwhelmed by the whole picture, she would have labelled it as the most surreal feeling she'd ever experienced.

"Oh, _that_ is _beautiful_!" the Doctor said, admiringly.

"Wow." She breathed, looking around her, amazed, "That is just... _Wow_."

He gave her a smile, "Couldn't have put it better myself."

Jack was looking around him, "Is this natural or developed? What d'ya think, terraforming?"

"Aw, _come_ on, Jack, couldn't you just let it be pretty?" Myra scolded, wearily.

The Doctor shot her a look, "You didn't say that on Mbea."

"Well, I thought it was beautiful, yeah, but I was probably more concerned with the fact that I might burn to death at any second."

"You two have been out before?" the 'resident immortal' asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This is only our second date." She replied, sarcastically. She glanced back at the Doctor, "I don't suppose there's any chance we've just ended up in the Amazon?"

He shook his head, "I doubt it. But..." he hesitated, looking around him, uncertainly, "Do me a favour and don't... don't touch anything."

Her instincts immediately spiked, "Why."

"Because..." he paused again. His attention seemed drawn to a particular part of the undergrowth, but when she looked she couldn't see anything specific, "Because I've been here before."

Myra shook her head, her concerns confirmed, "Aw, crap, I knew it..."

Jack perked up, looking at him, interested, "Really? Where are we?"

"We're..." he looked around him for a moment. Then he shook his head, abruptly, "I'm not sure."

"Doctor." Myra said, warningly, "Don't do that. Tell us. Please."

He looked at her for a second, "It's not good."

"It never is."

"It's... _impossible_."

"Like we're not used to _that_." Jack replied, giving a small wry smile.

"Okay. Well. This is... Well, I _think_ this is..." he trailed off, and then shook his head again, "Though it _can't_ be, it _physically_ _**can't**_ be, it's not logistically possible that we should be standing here, it's just not -"

"_Doctor_!" Jack and Myra interjected, simultaneously.

He looked at them, "This... is Spiridon."


	6. Chapter 6: Impossibilities

_Not of This World __chapter six: __**'**__**Impossibilities**__**'.**__ The three time travellers talk of times long past, Myra realises the severity of the situation, and the Doctor makes a sudden decision._

_Disclaimer - I do not own Doctor Who._

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Impossibilities**

"Spiridon?" Jack asked, looking at him.

Myra frowned, "Hang on, I've heard that name before. Spiridon. Yeah. I'm _sure_ of it."

"Spiridon." The Doctor repeated, nodding, slowly, "Also known as _Zaleria_."

The other name seemed to snap the Captain into action, realisation and horror moving over his face, "But that's not possible!"

"I said, didn't I?"

She shook her head, still frowning slightly, still trying to pick up the pieces, "Spiridon. No no no, hang on, _Spiridon_... A jungle world... uninhabited... or... _appearing_ uninhabited..." realisation of the name's worth passed over to her, and she smiled, "Of _course_, _Spiridon_! Jon what's-his-name - Pertwee, Jon Pertwee. In 'Planet of the -" she broke off, suddenly, realising fully why the two men were so concerned.

Myra shook her head again, rapidly, panic building inside of her, "Don't you dare. Doctor. You're not saying... Oh... _no_! No _way_!"

Jack jerked his head in her direction, "How much does she know."

"I'm beginning to think she knows _everything_."

He gave a small, slightly hysterical laugh, "_That's_ a change..."

"Never mind _that_, I thought you said the whole War was time-locked! Doctor, what about the Dal-"

The Doctor clamped a hand over her mouth, swiftly, "Don't say it!"

She wrenched herself away, unable to stop a little bit of outraged indignation, "Why? Since when did _denial_ become your thing, Doctor?"

"It's not denial." He looked around them again, and then leaned closer to her, lowering his voice, "You never know who's listening."

"Especially not here." She completed, slowly. She shook her head, grudgingly accepting his point, "Fine, okay. But... these questions need answers, Doctor. 'Cause if we've managed to break through a time-lock... we should get out of here. And I mean _now_."

"Gallifrey was time-locked, wasn't it?" Jack asked, him too glancing around them. As if that could help them...

"I don't know."

"How can you not _know_."

He shook his head, helplessly, "I don't _know_. It was _forbidden_, yes, but... whether it was actually physically _impossible_... I don't know."

"But the time-lock _here_..." she paused for a moment, thinking, and then shook her head, "How do time-locks actually _work_. It's through the time vortex, isn't it?"

"It's... it's a lock on a happening in time, something my people were very good at creating, making the happening completely inaccessible through time travel, but not removing it. It still happened. But it's... suspended. Locked. No-one can reach it."

"Except that one time." Jack said, quietly. The Doctor looked at him.

"But Caan lost his mind." Myra replied, firmly, bringing the two back to the present, "And that's something I'm pretty sure none of us have done. We didn't use a temporal shift, we _came_ here _through_ the _time vortex_." She paused again, and then shook her head, "Gotta ask, Doctor, 'cause... well, I know what you're like - are you sure? Are you sure this is Spiridon?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." She raised an eyebrow, clearly telling him what value his being 'pretty sure' of something meant to her, and he sighed, "Alright, alright, we'll do a check, shall we? C'mon, let's get back in the TARDIS. Just for a moment."

* * *

They moved back inside, and Myra glanced at the door, "Jack, keep an eye on the monitor. Outside view."

He frowned, "Why, _nothing_ can get through those doors."

"It's not them getting through that I'm worried about. Right. Doctor. Where are we."

"Just a sec..." he searched around the console for a moment, finally ducking down to grab something from a gap in the metalwork, "Here we go."

He brought out something that looked like a small black PDA, and Myra frowned at it, "What's that?"

He didn't look at her, switching the PDA on, "Sat-nav."

"Well if you're not going to answer me properly..."

"No, seriously. It's a sat-nav." He showed her it, "Intergalactic. We're still in Mutter's Spiral, technically it should still work."

Myra shook her head, "What is it, TomTom?" she asked, cynically.

The Doctor shot her a scathing look, "Don't be thick. It's _Route 66_. TomTom's don't get the signal."

"Oh, of _course_, how stupid of me..."

"And _here_ we go..." he looked at the result on the screen for a moment, "I was right. We're here. Mandiscant sector three, Spiridon. Mutter's Spiral."

Myra let out a long, slow breath, "Okay... so... _how_."

He paused for a moment, eyes fixed on the Gallifreyan writing. "I don't know."

Jack almost did a double-take, "Did he just say what I thought he said?"

"Yes, he did, and it is _really_ nothing to be pleased about, not right now. But, Doctor... any idea what year it is? 'Cause we could be crossing your timeline, how would we know?"

He looked at her, "Are you _seriously_ more worried about changing the past than the fact that were are now standing somewhere _physically impossible_?"

She shook her head, "I'm a woman, I can worry about both - it's called multitasking. _But_, however, the _former_ we might be able to _do_ something about. So. What year is it."

"Well, we've still got Skaro." Jack said, thoughtfully.

"Skaro?" Myra joined him by the monitor, glancing over it.

He pointed out one particular planet on the star map, "Yeah, that one there. That's Skaro."

"Okay, so when was Skaro destroyed?"

He shook his head, "Some time in the thirtieth century, it was never really officially recorded seeing as there was some confusion as to whether it had been destroyed at _all_."

"How d'you mean?"

"The Dalek Emperor -" he paused less than a second, his head twitching uneasily towards the door. He shook his head and continued, subconsciously lowering his voice: "The Dalek Emperor told a different story. The Hand of Omega caused Skaro's sun to go supernova back in the thirtieth century, the whole planet just _schwwwupboom_! - gone - but the _Daleks_ said... that that wasn't _Skaro_."

"Wha... What d'ya mean?"

"The Dalek Emperor said that they had found proof of Skaro's destruction before it happened, that they had taken another planet - Antalin - and terraformed it for years and years to _look_ just like _Skaro_."

"So the wrong one got blown up?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, _no_-one knows. Whatever happened, though, Antalin or Skaro or whatever, it disappeared after the Time War - it had been destroyed anyway."

"So... we're sometime before the thirtieth century." She shook her head, "We've gotta narrow it down. Oh, I know! Do a population check, lifeforms - _sentient_, not animal."

"Right on it..." he tapped keys furiously fast on the keypad, not sparing it a glance, "Okay, got it. Seventy billion. Give or take."

Myra shook her head again, "That's it, then! How much do you know about this planet?"

"For some reason apparently not as much as you."

"Well. I'm a geek, that's to be expected. _Now_. Early 26th century - Spiridon's adopted as a base by..." she hesitated despite herself, and then shook her head, "...by the Daleks. Reason one: Spiridon has a core of molten ice, which they thought they could channel and use to keep thousands and thousands of Daleks alive under the ground in cryostasis. However, it turned out the temperature was too erratic, so they ended up using artificial refrigeration units _any_ways. Reason two: the natives of this planet - the Spiridons - have their own sort of innate invisibility. The Daleks wanted to study this and see if they could replicate it."

"An invisible Dalek..." Jack shivered despite himself.

"Exactly. They actually had some success, but they couldn't sustain it. Fortunately our resident Doctor was sent to Spiridon by the other Time Lords and _found_ them - helped by Thals - and after a long series of very implausible events, managed to stop them."

"When was this?"

"Oh, _decades_ ago in his personal timeline, years and years and years, I think he was on his... _fourth_ regeneration? No, third. Yeah, that's right, third."

"Okay, well, thanks for the history lesson - why is the population important?"

"Because when the Daleks invaded Spiridon they killed over three quarters of the population. Only a handful of Spiridons were left - to be used as slaves. _So_... if this planet's population is seventy _billion_..."

"We're here before the Dalek attack." Jack finished, slowly, his eyes widening slightly with realisation, "We're here before _all_ of it! Before the War!"

"Yes. That must be how we got here. The whole of the Time War was locked, but not the events that happened _before_. We're here before any of it happened, before the Daleks, before the wars, before _any_ of it. None of it's happened yet."

"We're on Spiridon when it belonged to the Spiridons!"

"Yep, and there could be a thousand of those things outside and we would never know, we'd never suspect, nothing was ever known of the Spiridons before the invasion of the Daleks, we don't know if they're peaceful or what, they could wipe us out without us even _noticing_, and, speaking of noticing things, and has anyone else noticed the Doctor is being extraordinarily quiet?"

* * *

They both span on their heels. The console room was completely empty. Jack cursed a few times in a language Myra was glad she didn't understand, then took a few quick steps forwards, "His coat's gone."

"He's gone onto the planet. He's gone in search of the Spiridons."

"I'm going after him." He walked over to the door, swiftly, and tugged on it.

"He'll have locked it." Myra said, shaking her head, "System override, complete lock-down. I've seen this before." She paused for a moment, and then shook her head again, "C'mon. There's a secondary console downstairs, we can use that to get it open. It'll take some time to override the primary console, but we can do it. He didn't want us stuck in here, he just wanted to give himself a head start."

"But _why_ would he _do_ that?!" Jack asked, frustrated.

She shook her head, slowly, her heart pumping fast in her chest, "It's like a parallel world. You go there and see the things that could be, the things that could happen if only something was different. Sometimes things are poorer, and that's bad, but sometimes they're better - and that's worse."

"What d'you mean."

"Have you never thought of something that happened in your past that you'd like to change, Captain Jack Harkness? Have you never looked back and wondered whether it could have turned out differently?"

He looked at her for a long time, "What are you saying."

She paused, looking at the TARDIS door. Then she turned her eyes back to his, "I'm saying maybe the Doctor thinks he's found something he'd like to change."


	7. Chapter 7: Déjà Vu

_Not of This World __chapter seven: __**'**__**Déjà Vu**__**'.**_

"Tell me, what's the name of this planet?"  
"Spiridon - one of the nastiest pieces of space garbage in the ninth system."  
_(The Doctor & Vaber - Planet of the Daleks)_

_Disclaimer - Alas, I do not own Doctor Who._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 7 - Déjà Vu**

The Doctor moved swiftly through the high undergrowth. Knowing Myra and the Captain as he did, he had only given himself around twenty minutes head start, but that was enough. He knew this planet - they didn't. Well. Myra knew a little, of course. But watching it was different to experiencing it. Plus, she had mentioned something about not following the 'old series' - as she called them - too closely. Maybe she wouldn't remember much about this planet.

She'd be okay. Jack would look after her. Hell, _she'd_ look after _Jack_! The two were made for each other. He only hoped the Captain's... _friendliness_... wouldn't put her off too much. Nah. She didn't seem like the type to let that bother her. Her first reaction to him was amazingly refreshing - it seemed all sentients he met were immediately entrapped by the man's 'charm'.

A plant to his right twitched, and the Doctor moved a little away from it, uneasily. He dug his hands further into his pockets to ensure no skin was exposed, and continued through the shrubbery, head lowered.

He glanced at every group of flowers he saw, carefully. Nope. Nothing yet. Surprising. No doubt the two back at the TARDIS had realised how they could be here by now. How would they have done it? He himself would have done a planetary alignment check, but Myra wouldn't know how to do that, and wouldn't understand what the readings meant even if she _could_. No, Myra... Myra would have checked the population level. Found out that they had landed before the Dalek invasion. Smart girl, that one. Almost as smart as _him_. Well, not quite.

There was a low groan as one of the huge, fascinating trees nearby moved, a giant branch sweeping down a little to brush across the floor. The movement sent marigold leaves scattering to the grass, covering the ground around the thick brown trunk.

Something caught his eye. Where leaves had covered the floor, dropping like rain from the trees, they had caught onto something. Something about six foot, thin. And completely clear.

He took an automatic step back and bumped into something behind him, turning round, retreating a little, and they were all around him, he could _feel_ them.

The Doctor raised his hands, slowly, his eyes flickering over the floor in front of him. Footsteps crunched the leaves around him, shuffling, some of the plants going wild as they sensed the invisible creatures moving closer.

He heard something stop in front of him, breathing heavily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, giving a small, weak smile, "I come in peace?"

There was a pause as the Spiridon seemed to consider him. Then rustling again as it moved closer. "Secure him."

Hands grabbed his wrists and yanked them behind his back, "Hey hey hey, no need for that! I _told_ you, I don't mean you any harm!"

"He was aware of our presence. Disable him."

He immediately backed a little bit, "Oh no, no no no, don't you -"

Something hit him in the back of the head, hard, and he blacked out.

* * *

"How you doin' on that override?"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

Myra retreated at his anger, putting up her hands, "Okay, _okay_..."

"It's a difficult system," Jack relented, by way of an apology, "It's just taking me... Just needs a bit of a..."

He twisted a dial to the right, painfully slowly with the precision of a season lock-picker, and then shook his head and countered the motion by giving the console base a vicious kick.

Myra shook her head, incredulously, "Alright, take it easy, she's an old girl, y'know!"

"She's a _cantankerous_ old girl. She's not doing what I'm telling her to."

"Yeah, well, I don't think _I'd_ do what you said if you kicked me, _either_..."

He shook his head, frustrated, "Dully noted. Now if you would please give me a hand with this...?"

She moved over to him, eyes flickering over the console, "What d'you need."

He shook his head, tapping again at keys, "I need... to get _that_ open," he motioned with his head towards a storage compartment at his feet, "'Cause _that_ has got the system override switch in. But I can't get through this damned system, it keeps throwing me out."

"You need to get into _that_?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, well, try this." She snapped her fingers, sharply, and, with a small creak, the door moved open.

Jack looked at her, his expression a cross between frustration and awe, "How the hell did you know _that_ would work?"

"Oh, I didn't. I sorta just... guessed."

There was a pause, and then a grin spread across the Captain's face, "Course you did. C'mon, let's get outta here."

* * *

The TARDIS door finally swung open, and the two rushed straight through it.

Myra grimaced slightly at the heat, brushing her hair out her face with a hand, "_Blimey_. Wherever we are... it's damned _boiling_."

Jack glanced at her, smiling, "You could take off your shirt if you want. Don't mind me."

She looked at him for a second, and then shook her head, "Very funny, _Captain Harkness_."

His smile grew, "Who's joking?"

She sighed, wearily, "Either way... I don't think it's particularly good for _either_ of us to be removing _any_ clothes right now. Especially not _here_."

"A pity. Why's that, then?"

She shook her head, "Just... do me a favour. Don't touch the plants."

"Why."

"Because they'll _kill_ you."

He frowned a little, glancing over a nearby plant, cautiously, "What d'you mean, are they... _poisonous_?"

She gave a small, grim smile, "A little bit more than that. They're... more animal than plant." She glanced around her, and then pointed out a cluster of strange, bulb-shaped plants to the right, "Those ones there, I'm pretty sure they're eye-plants." She waved a hand in front of them, and then nodded as the bulbs moved to follow her palm, satisfied, "Yeah. Look. They react to movement. Even _invisible_ movement, so keep an eye on them - they freak out when Spiridons are nearby."

"'Freak out'? Is that a technical term?"

"Yep. Now, the eye-plants are harmless. But there are others that aren't. Some... shoot a sort of... _toxin_ from their petals." She took in a slow breath, trying with some difficulty to remind herself that this was now in fact _real_, "If it gets you... without special treatment... the fungus spreads all over your body."

The Captain made a face, "Nice."

"Incapacitating you... and eventually killing you."

"Ah. _Not_ so nice."

"_Yes_, _not_ so nice."

"And what do these plants look like?"

Myra paused for a moment, thinking, "I... I don't remember."

Jack shot her a sceptical look, "You don't _remember_?"

She shook her head, "It's been some time, okay, I don't know. Just... don't touch anything. Keep your jacket on, cover up as much exposed skin as you can. Put your collar up and put your hands in your pockets."

Harkness did as she said, flicking up the collar of his World War Two flight jacket, moving to her side as she started walking, "You're catching on very quick, Myra Hull. What are you, android?"

She rolled her eyes, "God, I wish people would stop asking that, no, I'm not an android, I'm completely and utterly human."

"Good."

She glanced at him, narrowing her eyes, suspiciously, "Why."

He tilted his head slightly to one side in a smooth, innocent shrug, "No reason. So how _do_ you know all this stuff, then? If you're human?"

She looked at him for a second. Then she just shook her head, "You really want to know?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay. Then... you've gotta trust me. Do you trust me?"

He shrugged, "The Doctor trusts you."

"That wasn't really an answer, you know." He just cocked an eyebrow, and she sighed, "Fine. Listen carefully. I'm only gunna say this once."

* * *

The Doctor lifted his head, slowly, and instantly wished he hadn't. He put his forehead back on the floor, giving a low groan. Then realisation flooded over him, and he snapped upright again. He got sharply to his feet, quickly scanning his surroundings. Then he shook his head, slowly, weary frustration sparking up. He was standing in a big empty room, with three white walls and one barred one, with a heavy metal padlock on the door.

The Doctor reached for his pocket, but wasn't surprised when he didn't find it. He looked around, and then spotted his trench coat sitting on a small wooden table... on the other side of the metal bars. He let out a low, half-hearted groan. Another cage, another prison... He really did walk into this sort of thing, didn't he. Except this time he didn't have a ship log. He couldn't make himself a frequency projector. So if the Daleks -

No. There were no Daleks on this planet. There wouldn't be for another five hundred years. When a much younger Master would make his deal, and the Time Lords would send him and Jo to this planet to confront an army of more than ten thousand cryogenically frozen killing machines.

They had survived. But others hadn't. Maro, Vaber, Marat... those countless thousands of Spiridons... the Daleks had murdered them all.

_I could stop it. It's right here, right now, I could stop it._

Those words... they stirred something inside of him. A memory moved constantly through his mind, a determined, stubborn Rose, and a much younger self, angry, _furious_.

_When we met, I said 'travel with me in space', you said no - then I said '__**time**__ machine'.  
__It wasn't some big plan. I just... saw it happening and I thought... I can... __**stop**__ it._

Hypocrite. He was such a damned hypocrite. He shook his head, slowly, leaning back against the wall of his cell. Myra was right. He _was_ useless...

* * *

"So we... I mean, the Doctor and me...?"

"You don't exist. You're just characters in this TV show."

Jack nodded, slowly, thoughtfully, "Interesting. What's it called?"

Myra looked at him, sceptically, "Why is that the first question both of you asked? _Doctor Who_, it's called Doctor Who. Except _your_ series was called _Torchwood_."

"Torchwood?"

She kept moving, "Yeah, kinda obvious. Did you ever wonder how they thought of the name?"

"It was the name of the house in Scotland, where they first started it."

"No. It's a direct anagram of Doctor Who."

"No it's not." He replied, immediately.

She nodded, "Yes, it is. Try it."

There was a pause a Jack ticked off letters in his head, then he raised his eyebrows, "Damn. So it _is_..."

"Yeah, well, I expect you lot were busier trying to save the world than figure out anagrams of your name." She paused as her foot got caught in a bunch of long weeds, tugging at it viciously until it came free, "Your series started when you picked up that woman... oh, what was her name... something Welsh..." she clicked her fingers, "_Gwen_! Gwen Cooper! Sorry, don't watch the Torchwood series, just never got into them, kept showing when I was at work."

"Should've recorded them. I'm crushed."

She shook her head, pulling at her foot again, "Trust _you_ to get indignant about me not watching a show where you yourself are a fictional character. If it helps, I've seen you every single time you were in the Doctor Who episodes. I'm afraid I'm slightly addicted."

"_Slightly_ addicted? You knew everything about this planet before you even found out we were _on_ it."

"I only know what I've seen. And, anyway, come on, Pertwee's acting in 'Planet of the Daleks' was _immense_. For the time, anyway, of course it was a little bit... _florid_..."

He raised an eyebrow, "_Florid_?"

"You never saw the Doctor before his ninth regeneration. Back those days he was... Well. _Very different_."

"Different..." he paused for a moment, and she saw the glitter move into his eyes before he even said the words, "_How_ different?"

"Not _that_ different," she replied, firmly, "But, well... he was a different man. _Literally_." She stopped in her place, abruptly, frustrated, taking her hand from her pocket to yank at whatever held her ankle, "What the hell is -"

The thick, tentacle-like vine immediately snapped tight around both her hand and her ankle, and, before she knew it, Myra was on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8: An Understanding

_Not of This World __chapter eight: __**'A**__**n Understanding**__**'.**__ Myra's fallen into trouble again, and the only person there to help is the person she wants it from least._

_Disclaimer - Myra's mine, Doctor Who's not :)_

* * *

**Chapter 8 - An Understanding**

"What the hell is _that_?!"

Myra's eyes widened as she recognised it, horror and desperation clicking almost audibly into place, and she immediately started fighting against the restraint, tearing at the plant with her free hand, "Get it off me! Get it _off_ me!"

Jack moved over to her side, quickly, pulling a pistol out of his belt, "Okay, okay, hold on, I've got ya."

The vine seemed to realise his intent, for it pulled, viciously, throwing her down again, dragging her across the floor.

"_Myra_!"

She threw out a hand, managing to grab hold of a tree root, tightening her grip so much it hurt her knuckles, holding on, ferociously.

Jack caught up with her again, getting behind her, crouching down, trying to keep her still, probably so he didn't put a bullet through her leg. Myra was having none of it, squirming and fighting against the thing holding her, kicking out, "Get it off me, get it _off_ me!"

"I'm _trying_!" the Captain's voice was thick as he grappled with it, "It's... _stuck_!"

"It's not stuck it's freaking _pulling_!"

"It's a _plant_!"

"Remember what I told you?! Vegetation here is more _animal_ than plant, now _get that thing off of me_!"

He shook his head and took hold of her wrist, the one caught, and struggled with the vine, trying to get some leverage and force it to let go.

The vine tightened excruciatingly on her ankle, so tight she felt the bone crunching, and Myra let out an expletive truly worthy of her police academy, "_Get it off of me_!"

"It won't, I can't, it _won't freaking_ -"

Her hand slipped on the root, and her hold was gone, and before she could secure it again the vine wheeled backwards, dragging her away through the undergrowth.

Thorns and lianas clouded her vision as she crashed through the undergrowth, going head over heels down a seemingly endless slope, brambles grabbing at her, sharp pain stabbing into her as the rocks dug into her flesh, the vine still pulling, pulling, "_Jack_!"

She was yelling and scrambling for a hold on something again, finally managing to get her hand out from the lock, the small amount of space so nearly enough to yank her foot back, but before she could manage it the vine tightened again.

Myra gasped as she felt the thing slam taught around her foot and wheel upwards. The ground left her and she was snapped upside down, pulled up maybe five feet off the ground, her ankle suspended from the vine that coiled over a tall brown tree.

"Dammit!" she managed, her breath caught in her chest, waiting for the rope-like vine to settle, "_Dammit_!"

She could feel blood dripping down her face from her many deep slashes, the brambles, the thorns, the stones, and she shook her head, wildly, trying to get her tangled hair out of her eyes.

"Myra! Where _are_ you?!"

"Over here!" she called back, looking around, frantically, trying to catch a sight of him, "But, please, by all means, _TAKE YOUR GODDAMNED TIME_!!"

Myra winced and tugged at the rope, trying to get free, but it took her so much energy just to reach her ankle, and she kept slipping. She struggled with the vine, feeling it constricting the more she fought, knowing it was useless.

Another vine was moving along the branch. It was sliding down, up her body, towards her chest. Her heart throbbed in her stomach and she immediately doubled her efforts, fighting ferociously against the restraint.

"_JACK_!"

Wait... a knife. She needed a knife. And she _had_ a knife. She had packed one. A Swiss Army knife, expensive little blighter. It was in her pack.

She reached round, trying to feel her bag. She reached again. Then she looked down. She gave a low, frustrated little moan. She needed her bag. And her bag, typically, was on the floor.

"_Damn_ it!" Myra reached downwards, but it was just too far away. She stretched out her hand, but she still had around a foot of air to contend with. She gave up, relaxing her arms. The vine had reached her stomach now, and had started to constrict, mercilessly. She felt the air trap in her lungs. Wouldn't be long. Pain thrummed through her body, her head, her chest, her ankle, her back, and she had to fight hard to keep a clear head.

_It's alright, it's okay, calm down_, she scolded herself, _You just have to reach. You can do it, reach to your ankle and pull that thing off of you. Do it. It'll be easy. Just __**do**__ it._

She tried, but her hand slipped down her leg, the vine too far away.

"_Come_ on, Myra," she growled, "_Focus_!"

She tried again, determinedly pulling at her leg, reaching. But still the pain proved too much for her, and she let go, falling back. She looked around, wildly. She couldn't see Jack anywhere, and the vine was so tight around her chest she was starting to feel dizzy. It was moving further up. Towards her throat.

_I can't... I can't hold on much longer. __**Do**__ something, Myra. __**Now**__._

Her hand slowly slid off her leg, falling back down beside her head.

_Get... the bag._

She reached. She couldn't breathe. Stretching out caused pain to split along her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She fought, desperately, knowing both that she couldn't do it and that she _had_ to do it. Finally, she gave up, exhausted, and watched as the vine wormed its way around her throat.

"_MYRA_!"

* * *

A gunshot blasted through the air and Myra flinched, her back hitting the trunk as the movement swung her round, "What... you... trying to goddamned... _kill_ me?!"

Jack came towards her, gun raised, "Stay right there."

She managed to roll her eyes, "Funny..."

He gave her a fleeting grin, and then grabbed hold of the vine, having to stretch to reach, managing to get his fingers under it and give her the slightest amount of room around her throat.

"Watch... the plants... poison..."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting fiercely with the climber tearing at her neck, "Oh, thanks for that, doll, wouldn't have thought of that otherwise..."

"Jack..."

"I'm here, I've got you, I'm gunna get you outta here."

"No... down... bag..."

He glanced down, eyes searching the floor, "Bag?"

"Knife... please... knife."

His gaze moved quickly between his grip on the tentacle and the bag on the floor. He gave a low, frustrated snarl, and then let go, dropping to the floor and seizing the bag, practically ripping it open, "Where?!"

The vine immediately tightened again, feeling like it was sealed to her skin, and Myra started coughing, gasping, "Front... front pocket."

He tried again, another pocket, finally found the knife, "Here!"

Her eyes slid closed, "Please... Jack... please..."

She felt a strong hand back on her arm, the line of the blunt side of the blade on her stomach - he obviously didn't want to go too close to her throat, "I've got you, you're gunna be okay. Okay, on three - one, two, _three_."

* * *

Jack jerked his arm back and there was a huge, echoing screech as the constriction on her neck suddenly stopped and the dismembered vine fell to the floor. Myra dragged in a deep gasp and the vine around her ankle seemed to take an offence, retreating. The floor came towards her very fast and then stopped, abruptly, "It's alright, it's alright, I've got you! I've got you, Myra!"

She pulled back a gasp of air, her hand coming up to her throat as she coughed and choked on the oxygen, struggling with the simplest of life's requirements.

"_Breathe_. Just breathe, Myra. You're okay, calm it down."

Her breaths were sporadic and far too shallow, hacking across her lungs, her throat feeling about the same width as a small marble, fear and adrenaline joining to the mix.

She battled with her breathing, finally managing to get it regular enough to force out a few words, "You... goddamned... _moron_!" She heard Jack give a small, relieved laugh, sounding overjoyed at this vague, choked insult, and she shook her head, hand massaging her aching throat, "Took your... goddamned... _time_!"

"Well, more fun that way, isn't it!"

She muttered a curse under her breath and he laughed again, "Come on, I've got you. You're okay, I've got you."

Myra let her head fall back, weakly, allowing her breathing to calm, feeling her heart slow a bit. A light touch moved over her face and she grimaced, feeling all of a sudden the cuts across her face.

She turned her head to the other side, out of his reach, eyes squeezed shut, "Quit it."

"Some of these are quite deep."

"I know, I felt them go in, remember?"

Jack laughed again, and she groaned, letting her head roll back. She opened her eyes. The Captain was still holding her, one arm hooked under the back of her knees, the other braced under her shoulders, the hand still brushing her neck where it had been denied her cheek. She glanced up at his eyes. They were a sort of sea-grey and fixed on hers, and carrying an emotion she couldn't quite place. She suddenly found herself feeling almost scared.

He cocked his head slightly to one side, raising an eyebrow. She stayed still for a moment, staring at him, her lips slightly parted as her breathing still evaded her. Then she shook her head, frowning slightly, "What are you -?"

Before she could finish the sentence Jack leant down and pushed his lips onto hers.

* * *

While Myra's eyes widened with confusion and surprise, Jack's slid closed. He leaned down to her, brushing his lips against hers, slowly, pushing a little closer when she didn't pull back, kissing her gently but firmly.

Myra was still stunned. She didn't know what to say, and was quite sure he wasn't going to let her free anytime soon to even _attempt_. She gave an almost indignant noise from the back of her throat, but he seemed to take it a different way, as _enjoyment_, and deepened his kiss, drawing her higher, closer towards him, deftly.

Her nerves were still hyped - _Captain Jack_ had just saved her life from a mutant plant, had _literally_ swept her off her feet, and this now... this was just... _insane_. Myra put a hand on his shoulder, her head still feeling dizzy from the sudden availability of oxygen, tightening her grip, not having a clue whether she was trying to push him away or tell him to keep going.

_I'm being kissed by a TV character_.

This bizarre thought snapped her out of it. Suddenly, she jerked her head back, away from Jack. The movement was so abrupt it surprised him, enough for his grip to loosen slightly and for her to tumble out of his arms, falling sharply down to the floor.

* * *

Myra got quickly to her feet, suppressing her embarrassment, brushing his hands off her distractedly when he tried to help her up, "That... that's quite enough of _that_..."

The Captain shook his head, "Whoa, sorry, sorry."

She shook her head, still slightly flustered, brushing dirt off her clothes and pulling leaves out of her hair, "No, don't, I mean, don't, it's, it's..." she stopped herself, forcefully, well aware that she making little to no sense. She drew in a slow, deep breath, "Try again, Myra." She looked up at him, "You're _apologising_ for _kissing_ me?"

He seemed to be regaining his cool too, and a slow grin moved over his lips, a wicked, self-satisfied smirk, "Never. I'm apologising for dropping you. Kissing you is a different story."

"Well. _There's_ the Jack Harkness I've heard so much about..."

His smile deepened, "You know it." He paused for a moment, and then moved towards her again, putting his hands on her hips, his grey eyes shining with something close to amusement, fixed on hers, like he was _daring_ her.

She drew in another long, deep breath. Then she took one firm step back, and looked at him, seriously, "You saved my life. And I'll remember that. Thank you. But... this isn't the time. _Now_... now we should be looking for the Doctor. Before he does something stupid. Like he _always_ does."

Jack nodded, slowly, seemingly allowing his... _inclinations_... to cool, "You're right."

She nodded, "Then we have an _understanding_?"

"Yes. Let's get moving."

Myra paused, and then nodded again. She looked down at herself and sighed. She was a mess. Somewhat subconsciously, she pushed back her muddy, tangled hair, glancing down at the red raw skin on her wrist and ankle, smearing some of the blood off her face and skin, flinching only slightly at the pain. She risked a small glance at Jack. He was watching her, closely. She shook her head, and then turned and started walking, very aware that somewhere deep inside her mind a small part of her was kicking herself.


	9. Chapter 9: Troubles in Paradise

_Not of This World __chapter nine: __**'Troubles in Paradise'.**__ The Doctor's been locked away and Myra's considering locking Jack away for his own safety, but all the while something __**else**__ is running through the jungles of Spiridon..._

_Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who :(_

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**Chapter 9 - Troubles in Paradise**

"So... how long am I here for?"

The silence echoed back at him. The Doctor shook his head, pacing the floor again, casually, "Not gunna answer, hey? Though, actually, I suppose I don't _really_ know whether anyone's standing there, I could just be chatting away to myself, who knows? That's the tricky thing about invisibility... Oh well, I suppose there's worse people I could talk to. At least when you talk to yourself you get the answers you want, right?"

Nothing.

"Exactly! So, speaking of the invisibility thing, I actually didn't get to ask you too many questions about it the _first_ time we met - for you the _next_ time, of course - d'you mind if I ask you some now? No? Brilliant. How do you see each other? I'm guessing it's not ocular, it's not _physically seeing_, unless, of course, you've got a different _spectrum_ to human life - _anthropoid_ life forms, I mean... No, I don't think it's the spectrum. Though I suppose I wouldn't really know without seeing your eyes, and if I could do _that_ you wouldn't _need_ the spectrum, _would_ you?"

The Doctor paused for a moment, thinking, "A sixth sense? I don't know, some sort of olfactory evolution, maybe? 'Cause I've noticed the eye-plants can see you, am I right? Or _sense_ you, at least. They know you're there. So there's _something_ linking you all. Maybe some sort of mental link, like telepathy, maybe. You can... _hear_ each other."

A telepathic link... He stored this away in his mind, subconsciously, labelling it as 'something to think about'.

"Well," he continued, casually, "It would explain a lot. Except... you must be able to _block_ it somehow, because once I knew a Spiridon that fought back. That resisted. Though, seriously..." he moved forwards, dragging the small stool closer to the bars, sitting, placing his elbows on his knees and resting his head in a hand, thoughtfully, "What's it like? What's it like looking in a mirror and seeing nothing? Though I suppose you don't have mirrors here, why would you need them? Do you look at me the same way I look at you?" he raised a hand, smiling, "Okay, bad example. But... do you look at me and think 'why is he so solid, how does he get around without being seen, how does he tell himself apart?' What do you think of humans, of Thals, of... all those other species? What do you think of us?"

Silence. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, smiling slightly, "Not a talker, are you? Unfortunately I am. Got a right gob on me, I have. Sorry 'bout that."

"You are Thal?"

He moved his gaze to the sudden intrusion, shaking his head almost disappointedly, "Aw, I was having fun talking away to myself there, did you _have_ to?"

"You are Thal?"

"Nah. No, I'm not. Sorry."

"What are you."

He hesitated, "Uh... _better_ not tell you that _just_ yet. Y'know, time lines, and all."

"Time lines?"

The Doctor just smiled. There was a rustle nearby, a shuffle, maybe someone getting to their feet. The quiet tap of footsteps came closer, and he could sense them stopping very close. He could hear the Spiridon's breathing somewhere near the bars.

"Did you bring it _with_ you."

He frowned, "Bring what?"

"We found you in the Mandiscant sector. Did you bring it with you."

"I don't know what you mean."

There was a low, hoarse sigh. The Doctor frowned again, feeling a familiar emotion set into place, "What's wrong?"

The Spiridon laughed, hollowly, "You do not know?"

"No. Tell me. Tell me what's wrong and I can help you."

There was a long pause. "What are you."

He moved closer to the bars, looking through, sincerely, "I'm the Doctor. And, whatever it is, whatever is wrong, I can help."

Silence. Brown eyes flittered around the cage, automatically searching for someone to address his words to. He could hear nothing. Maybe they were toying with him.

_You knew nothing of Spiridons before the Daleks took them as slaves,_ his mind said, firmly, _They could be a perfectly peaceful people. What about __**Wester**__?_

He shook his head, slowly, "What's your name?"

"You never said yours."

"I told you. I'm the Doctor. What's your name."

Pause. "Vari. I am Vari."

"Vari. Please. Let me help you."

Another long silence. Then a small breath of air, almost a sigh, "My brothers do not trust you."

"But _you_ do."

"No."

He gave a small twist of a smile, "Yeah you do. I can tell. You trust me. Tell me what's going on, Vari."

"I do not trust you." Vari repeated, firmly. Then he hesitated, "But... you said you were a Doctor."

"Yes I am."

"You could help."

The statement sounded more like a question. Like a plea. He moved closer to the bars again, "_Yes_. I can help."

Vari seemed to think about it, "No. No, I couldn't... But... maybe... Yes." The was a rattle of metal, and the padlock on the door fell to the floor. The door opened with a creak, and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, "Come with me."

"Of course."

The Spiridon hesitated, "I am breaking every law I know in doing this, Doctor."

"I know. But I can help. I know I can."

"Yes. So you can come with me." He led him down a long, thin corridor, hand still on his shoulder as if fearing he would try to run, "And then... you can take a look. And see what you think."

The Doctor glanced up at him, frowning, "But... how could I _look_ at it?"

Vari didn't reply. Instead, he turned, abruptly, taking him through a door into another room, "Here. Here they are."

The Doctor glanced round, and then stopped still. His eyes widened, and his hearts seemed to freeze in place, "But that's..."

"What is it, Doctor." He didn't reply, _couldn't_ reply. The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly, "Have you seen anything like it?"

He just stared, horrified, and shook his head, slowly, "That's impossible."

* * *

"London. Height of the London Blitz. Middle of a German Air raid."

"Series one, episodes nine and ten. 'The Empty Child' and 'The Doctor Dances'."

"End of the universe."

Myra thought for less than a second, "Series three, episode eleven. 'Utopia'."

Jack nodded, "Ah, okay, how about... oh, I know, spelunking in ninetieth century Endalade."

She glanced at him, "Sadly undocumented. That sounds good."

"So they haven't televised _all_ of his life."

"What, are you joking? He's over nine hundred years old and he's a _time_ traveller! Give the BBC _some_ credit!"

"Okay, alright, I believe you. You're a geek."

"Thank you."

"Was it your dream to meet the real thing?"

She shrugged, continuing through the forest, "I guess. I think it's _any_ fan's dream. But you don't really expect to wake up one day in a hospital bed of a different universe. Well, not if you're sane, that is."

Jack chuckled, "Must've been quite the shock."

"You have no idea. I spent the first twenty minutes trying to figure out whether I was _dead_..."

He laughed again. Then he looked at her for a few seconds, a small, thoughtful smile on his face, "Out of curiosity... what did you think when you first saw _me_?"

She shrugged, nonchalantly, "Thought you'd be taller."

"Really?"

"No. But that's just what people always say, isn't it? You were just... _you_. I reacted the same way I do when I'm talking to my TV screen."

"You talk to your TV screen?"

"Not... _all_ the time." She shook her head, rapidly changing the subject, "Go on, then, what did you think of me."

He shrugged, "Well, I didn't really have much time to think, really, and then I was on top of you."

"Nothing new there, then..."

He gave her a smooth grin, "No, not really."

Myra rolled her eyes, "You are so -"

"Indescribable? Pleasant? Charming?"

"_Futile_ was the word I had in mind, actually. I'm beginning to regret letting you out of the TARDIS, I should have just left you locked in there..."

"Futile?" he sounded amused, "You think my attempts on small talk with you are _futile_?"

"What makes you think they _aren't_?" she asked, threading a hint of sharpness into her voice, a firm warning to stay back.

He didn't take it, tilting his head slightly to one side, playfully, "Well, after we _kissed_..."

"_No_." She interrupted, firmly, her eyes daring him to continue. He looked at her for a few seconds, smiling, lazily. She watched him, and then shook her head, continuing walking. They walked in silence for a few moments, before she shook her head again, "And I didn't kiss _you_. _You_ kissed _me_."

A grin worked its way onto his lips, "Well, you know what they say, it takes two, girl."

"Shut up."

"Well, I just thought that you'd rather -"

"No, I mean it. The eye-plants are moving."


	10. Chapter 10: The Doctor Is In

_Not of This World __chapter ten: __**'**__**The Doctor Is In**__**'.**_

"Who _are_ you."  
"I'm _help_." _(S02E11)_

_Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who_

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**Chapter 10 - The Doctor Is In**

"Wait!" Myra said, quickly, putting up her hands, looking around her, "Please, wait. We mean you no harm."

There was a long pause. "Who are you."

Shivers went up her spine, reflexively, and she firmly forced them back down, "We mean you no harm. I'm Myra Hull, and this is Jack Harkness."

"_Captain_ Jack Harkness."

She shook her head, "Okay, fine, _Captain_ Jack Harkness." She looked around her again, slightly edgy at having no-one to speak to, "We're Thals. Thals from Skaro."

"But you speak Spiridonian." Another voice, this time. Higher. Maybe female.

Myra adjusted her gaze to where she thought the voice came from, thinking very quickly, "Yes. We... we were sent here by... the Shadow Proclamation. We were selected because we had knowledge of Spiridonian."

The Spiridon paused, thinking, "Why are you here. Why has this Shadow sent you."

"We... we were sent to find someone. To track a particular man - a man who has fled to this planet. A human. White. Tall. Brown haired." She addressed each of her words to different parts of the undergrowth, "Might you have recovered him?"

Another pause. "We have recovered a man regarding this description, yes. But he is not of human origin. Our preliminary scans revealed a binary-vascular system. He is something new."

She nodded, hastily, "I... beg your forgiveness - when I said _human_, I meant human_oid_. This sounds like the man we are looking for, has he given a name?"

A rustle as one seemed to move closer to her, "As far as I know, no. What is his species? Our scanners have been unable to work it out."

_Spoilers_.

She heard the word in the Doctor's firm, carrying voice, telling River Song why her knowledge about the TARDIS was wrong.

_You can't tell them. They can't know. And if he hasn't given a species or his name... maybe he's reconsidered. Maybe he doesn't want to change things at all._

Myra fought for words as the silence echoed, "He's a... he's... He's... Twi'lek."

"Twi'lek?"

She nodded, fervently, "Uh-huh. Born on Ryloth in the Outer Rim. Heard of it?"

"No."

"Well. He's a long way from home." She hesitated a moment, and then started again, tentatively: "If you could take us to him...?"

Shuffles, rustling, the sound of footsteps on leaves, and then, suddenly, a warm hand on her shoulder, "Of course. We will need to ask _you_ some questions, as _well_."

"Thank you." Then she sank a little, "Wait a minute, am I being placed under arrest?"

"That depends on what you consider as being 'placed under arrest'."

"I consider as it being taken somewhere against my own free will and locked up until someone who knows more than they're saying comes in and asks me lots of awkward questions."

"Ah. Then you are not being placed under arrest."

"How so?"

The hand pushed slightly, guiding her, "Because you _want_ to find this man. You are not against your own free will."

"And if I refused?" she asked, slowly.

The Spiridon paused, "Then I suppose you will have to rethink your definition of being 'placed under arrest.' Come."

"Fine." She turned, glancing at Jack. He was looking at a place on his shoulder, uneasily, and she was sure one had taken hold of him too. "Jack." He glanced up at her, his eyes showing the question. She nodded, slowly, "Let's go."

As they moved them further out of the jungle, the two humans started walking together, and Jack leaned down to her ear, "Twi'lek?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, questioningly.

She gave a furtive grin, "Let's just say I'm not just a Doctor Who geek. C'mon."

* * *

"This is... this is..."

"Exactly."

The Doctor looked at the beds all lined against the wall. And the Spiridons in them. He shook his head again, his hair now completely mussed where he'd rumpled it so often in his bewilderment, "This is wrong."

"Yes. Nothing like this has ever been seen before on this planet."

"Nothing like this has ever been seen before on _any_ planet, _this_... _shouldn't... __**be**_."

He looked almost helplessly back at the nearest bed, and the thing on it. The humanoid shape was just about recognisable. The whole body shimmered in and out of visibility. A strange, glowing light pulsed around it, a bright, ethereal blue, like an ultraviolet radiance. And the body itself... it was twisted, blackened, and somehow... He turned his head, but the image was burned into his mind. The flesh was... _slack_. Like it had been... _loosened_.

"They're still alive." He said, his voice dull and numb.

There was no reply. He looked at them again, "But... I can _see_ them."

"Yes. Spiridons do not become visible until after death." There was a pause, and he seemed to shake his head, "We are not sure of what this means."

The Doctor nodded, slowly. His eyes followed the beds. Each one getting closer was in a worse state, the infection at a further stage, whatever that meant. The one furthest away from him he wouldn't have even seen if it weren't for one, long black smear hovering over the plastic sheets. They got worse, and worse, some of the creatures writhing, as if pulling against bonds, and, then, right at the front, the seizures had stopped, and the creatures were still as the infection laid waste their bodies.

The Doctor turned back to the Spiridon behind him, forcing the thought of out his mind, "What is this. How did it happen, when did it start." He was aware that he sounded angry. He was also aware that this man might not realise it was part of his coping mechanism. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

"We do not know."

"You must have _some_ idea."

Vari gave a small, frustrated sigh, "No. One by one, it took them. There was this... _light_."

"Light?" he repeated, immediately, "What _kind_ of light."

"I don't know how to describe it. Like... I don't know."

"_That_ kind of light?" he asked, nodding his head at the strange, glowing auras cloaking the decaying bodies.

"I guess so. Yes. Different. Brighter."

"What did it do."

"It passed. From person to person. One brother would go down as if in a fit. Another would grab him, try to help him... and the light would pass onto him. When the light left... they were like this."

"How many."

"Sixty-eight. So far."

The Doctor swept a vague hand across the room, "_All_ of them?"

"Yes. We quarantined all of them as soon as we saw what was happening. But... it's still spreading."

"And it's not something from the plants? The poison?"

"No. We have tried every medicine we have, every remedy. Nothing works. We are unaware of why, or how, the disease spreads. It could be physical contact. Do not touch them."

He shook his head, immediately, "Oh, trust me, I won't."

He turned back to the nearest bed, and moved over to it. He forced up the scientific approach that he knew would let him examine them without feeling. He crouched down beside the bed, balancing himself by placing his fingertips on the edge. He flinched slightly as a small jolt of static electricity jolted through his fingers, and frowned at the offending metal for a moment before turning his attention back to where it was needed. He hesitated for a moment, looking at the twisted body, fighting back images of fire and pain. Then he shook his head, and pulled the stethoscope out of his pocket, placing it hesitantly on the Spiridon's chest.

He paused for a moment, and then frowned, glancing back at the invisible man, "Do Spiridons have a decentralised heart?"

"No. Singular, in the chest, right side."

He nodded, vaguely, moving the amplifier over to the other side. He listened, carefully. He frowned. He pushed the amplifier closer, careful not to touch the skin. Then he moved his eyes back onto the spot where Vari had been, "But... they're _dead_."

"No."

"There's no life signs. No heartbeat, no pulse. No breathing."

"Wait."

He waited. He shifted slightly, trying to figure out what the Spiridon thought was going to happen.

_One-two._

The Doctor almost flinched. He yanked the stethoscope off him, putting it down on the table, leaning on it for a second, "How often."

"Once every two minutes. Usually. It slows down as the infection progresses. We call it Living Rot, because, whilst they are living... their bodies are going into a state of decay. That's... that's all we know about it."

"Do they all die?"

There was a pause, "I know of no survivors."

The Doctor allowed the momentary silence that followed out of respect. But he was itching to continue, and straightened up, turning his attention back to the infected Spiridons, "Right. Now. This _light_..."

"It occurs at the beginning of the infection, they all have it."

He nodded, slowly, rummaging around in his pocket, "Hm. It's an altered electraura. I've never seen one this... Hang on, let me just..." he managed to retrieve his sonic screwdriver and flipped it onto the right setting, deftly, scanning the flickering body in front of him, "Now. What did you call this illness, Living Rot?"

"That's right."

"Okay. Well, funnily enough, the decay of anything organic produces phosphine and methane, which, when oxidised, can produce a sort of glow, like this."

"Phosphine?"

He didn't even glance at him, "If you don't understand, don't ask. No offence. I'm not talking to you."

He didn't seem to take offence, "Then... who _are_ you talking to?"

"I don't know. Myself, probably." He fiddled with the controls again, holding the sonic up to his ear, "After all... _that_ way... I get the answers I want, right?"

The Doctor went back to the patient, quickly, "Now. The light pulses. But not in time with the fading of the Spiridon's invisibility. If it's the oxidised form of phosphine and methane it should be pale yellow." He crouched back down again, leaning under the table to scan the other side of the body, noting that an echo of the glow appeared even under the hospital bed, "This is blue. For it to be blue there'd have to be another component. But _what_." He stayed still for a moment, tapping his screwdriver against his lip, unconsciously. Idea flickered through his head, each immediately being rejected or labelled 'possibility'. None could be confirmed.

He let out a low, frustrated sigh, straightening up a little, "Vari, you've gotta help me, was there _anything_ you've done, anything you've seen, _any_thing that could have triggered for this, like... any odd signs, any... meteorite crashes... weather changes... strange visitors...?"

"None save _you_."

* * *

The Doctor bolted upright. Hands grabbed his wrists again, and yanked him away from the beds, dragging him back.

"Think about this," he objected, fiercely, not fighting their grips directly but not allowing them, either, "Whatever you've got going on in here, I can help. I can _help_ you, don't you understand, these men are _dying_, _let me __**help**__ you_!"

His voice changed rapidly between frustration and anger and something close to panic, but the Spiridons behind him were seemingly having none of it. They wrenched him back towards the door, ignoring his continued protests, ignoring his struggles. They stopped when they reached the corridor, and the Doctor quickly counted the hands on him. Six. Could mean three, could mean only three were _restraining_ him. There could be so many more.

There was a movement, a struggle, and a bang as if someone had been slammed against the wall, "Brother, you have betrayed us."

"He is a _doctor_!" another replied, fiercely, and he instantly recognised the voice as Vari's, "He could _help_, he could help with the infection, let him _help_!"

"He is a stranger. An outsider. We have no idea of what he could do. He is the _cause_ of this, not the cure."

"Let him _explain_! He knows _nothing_ about this! He was as shocked as _we_ were!"

"He will be imprisoned." The lower, gruff voice replied, firmly, "And, as for _you_, Brother... you will be dealt with."

"_No_!" the Doctor said, ferociously, anger and an old, strange pain flashing through him like lightning, "He is _not_ a betrayer! He was trying to help! Don't you _dare_ -"

A hand was forced over his mouth, stopping his protests, "Silence, alien. Take him."

They started dragging him away. He fought with the holds, ferociously, but there were too many of them. He shook his head, giving a low, frustrated snarl, and then shook his head again, "Vari! Vari, listen to me -"

"I said _silence_!"

He ignored them, fighting with hands, "Vari, quickly, tell me - this light, this, this light thing, the thing that caused the infection, what did it look like?" No reply. A hand was forced over his mouth again but he shook it off, viciously, "Vari, _tell_ me! _What did it look like_?!"

"Fire. It... it looked like fire."

The Doctor paused for a second, "Thank you."

Then the hands dragged him back down the corridor, back towards his cell.


	11. Chapter 11: Unofficial Prisons

_Not of This World __chapter eleven: __**'Unofficial Prisons'.**__ Myra and Jack try to figure out a Time Lord's very complicated mind._

_Disclaimer - I still don't own Doctor Who. You'd think after all the writing I do I'd at **least** get a share ;)_

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**Chapter 11 - Unofficial Prisons**

Myra looked around her at the huge underground catacombs, giving a low whistle. The only place she'd seen anything like it was pictures of the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. And, of course, _Mbea_. She glanced at the place where she was pretty sure was a Spiridon, "Wow. Impressive."

"Thank you."

"Must've taken some time to build."

"Hundreds of years for the entire complex."

"Hmm..."

They kept walking, through walls of rough, uncut stone, until they reached a large metal door. The lock clicked open by itself and, as it creaked open, Myra was inexorably reminded of a cheap, cheesy, sixties horror she had seen once, and instantly lowered her head to cover her suppressed laughter.

Inside was a lot for structured. Walls and doors and clean white paint. The hall was wide, and, as casual as they both looked on the outside, it was quite disconcerting to be continually jostled and shoulder-bumped by thin air.

"So you all live underground?" Jack asked, casually.

"We sleep underground. To avoid the night cold."

"Wouldn't mind a bit of cold myself..." Myra muttered, wearily, pulling at the buttons on her shirt, "This is insane. Aw, screw it, this is coming off."

Jack's attention immediately perked, a grin moving over his lips, "Oh, of all the ideas of mine you decide to listen to, thank the _maker_ it's this one."

"Don't get _too_ excited, _Captain_." She slid the bag off her back and then turned her back to undo her buttons. She forced the stained shirt off her shoulders, and stuffed it into her bag, turning back to Jack with a small smile as he glanced almost ruefully at the white vest underneath, "Sorry, honey. It's damned cold in that academy."

He shrugged, "Hell, still gives me a better view, honey."

"Yeah yeah yeah, cut it out, Harkness, or the next time you need your behind saved you're going to find me extremely busy examining the tread of my shoe, is that clear?"

He winked, "Crystal."

"You are a very odd couple."

Myra rounded on the space of empty air, "We are _not_ a _couple_."

Even without seeing him she could tell the Spiridon had immediately backed off, "I... apologise. It was just... you came _together_... and..."

"_No_." she said, fiercely, "Just... _don't_."

She could see Jack smirking out of the corner of her eyes, probably silently enjoying them being described as a couple. She didn't meet his eyes, her mind supplying a stream of curses as she felt an unexpected flush of blood go to her face, "Let's just... keep moving."

Jack gave a small laugh that she just about managed to ignore, but she kept walking, moving down the busy yet completely empty corridor. The Spiridon herded them into a small empty room, which Myra frowned at for a moment before she realised it was a lift. She felt the ground beneath her feet move and tried to figure out which direction they were going in. She couldn't tell.

"Here."

A door along the corridor opened of its own accord, and a hand on her back ushered her inside. The room was plain white, a bedroom, and had a weirdly abstract feel, probably due to the primitive, low beds and open fire mixed with the very space-age terminal next to the door.

"Wait here," the Spiridon said, firmly, "You do not want to wander the corridors when you cannot see the occupants. I will see what I can find out about your fugitive. I will not be long."

* * *

The door slid shut. Myra hesitated, and then walked over to it, placing her hands on the metal, thoughtfully.

"You thought they'd lock it?"

She paused for a moment, eyes on the door, "Oh, they _have_ locked it. But... I was wondering if they'd leave someone in the room with us. Y'know, see what we were talking about and all that."

"Why would they do _that_?"

She turned back to him, retreating over to the table and dumping her bag on it, "Because they don't trust us. Come on, are you seriously telling me you didn't feel it? They think we're lying."

"Why."

She shook her head, "Listen. They didn't know of the Shadow Proclamation, but they showed fake respect for it. They didn't believe that he came from Ryloth - not really surprisingly - but they pretended to accept us at our word. They're trying us out, Jack. They're not going to let us go. We really are prisoners here. It's just not as _official_."

Jack paused for a moment, digesting this. Then he shook his head, "Damn. Locked up again. This sort of thing kinda happens to me a lot."

"Yeah. Well, since I met our fugitive friend, me too. Every heard of Mbea? Sarian System? No? Well, you don't wanna. I was locked up there so many times I can barely remember. _He_ was, too." She paused, thoughtfully, "_Once_ by _me_."

He glanced at her, suddenly frowning, "_Huh_?"

"Long story. I'll tell you if we ever get stuck in a lift some time." She glanced around, and then caught a glimpse of her reflection in the shiny, blank monitor by the door, and winced, "God, my hair's a mess..."

Jack settled back on the low bed, casually, watching her, "Must be the humidity."

"Mm, and I suppose being dragged through the undergrowth by a killer plant might have done it, too." She looked at it again and sighed. Then she moved back to her bag, digging around in it for a moment before coming out with a brush, on which was tied a hair band. She returned to the monitor, not a naturally vain person, but needing to see to get the pieces of twig still tangled in her hair.

After a lot of pulling and hissed curses, she managed to get her long brown hair into a passable state, tying it back to keep it out the way. She hesitated, examining the healing cuts on her face, and brushed the monitor with a finger.

She flinched back, "Ouch."

"'Kay?"

"Fine, just static. There. Could almost pass for human, now." She glanced up, giving him a small smile, "Figuratively speaking, of course."

Jack returned the smile, "Of course. What else you got in that bag."

She shrugged, moving back over to put away her brush, "Enough. I had six months to decide what to pack. I think it went okay."

"Got any chips?"

She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself, and burrowed through a few more pockets before finding what she needed and throwing it to him, "Here. Try this."

He shot her a charming smile, "Oh, you're an _angel_, what is it."

"Army rations." She sat down on the bed beside him and nabbed one of the cracker-like things back, deftly, "Nice ones as well, not like the World War Two stuff you're probably used to."

"Mm, well, it aint chips, but it aint bad."

"My thoughts exactly." She looked around her, thoughtfully, "So. What do we think."

Jack shook his head, "I don't know. I've only heard of the Spiridons because of... well, because of the association."

"Me too."

"But you've seen the planet, right? What did you see?"

"Well..." she paused, thinking it through in her head, cataloguing everything she knew, "Well, you know about the lifeforms... the Spiridons, the... _vegetation_... The temperate's a bit... _weird_. It's hot now, _tropical_, but at night this planet turns sub-freezing. It's got a core of molten ice."

"Ice?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow, "Now _that's_ unusual."

"I know. They called it an _anatrope of ice_, ice that's never frozen, never gets hard. And they've got these things, these... _fissures_, and, every now and then, the pressure builds up and bursts to the surface, like with volcanoes."

"But with molten ice."

"Yeah."

He winced, "Ouch..."

"Yeah. The Spiridons use the ice volcanoes as a cooling system, they've got tunnels and shafts covered in ice all around this place where they've dug out to meet the fissures."

"But I thought you said this place gets freezing at night?"

She shrugged, "I guess they must have some way of controlling it. Shutters or something, to only keep the cold in when they need it."

"Really?"

"You don't think so?"

He shook his head, "I dunno, I just... These Spiridons... they've got the weirdest mix of technology I've ever seen. They hunt with sticks and bows and then go back to... to this kind of technology, it's not..." he hesitated, and then shook his head, sighing, "What do you know about them?"

"Nothing. There was nothing about them before. Nothing about what they were like. I mean, it was _suggested_ they weren't all that bad, but... how can we tell?"

"Wait and see, I suppose."

"Of course, there's always that. But they've got the -" she stopped herself from naming him, quickly, "They've got our fugitive. Why. Why did they take him in. What did he do."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Knowing him, blown something up."

She smiled, wryly, "Yeah, well, that is his style, isn't it. But, no. He wouldn't have done anything to compromise what he was trying to do here."

"What _is_ he trying to do here."

"You _know_ what. The _real_ question is... _how_." She paused for a moment, thinking about it, carefully.

_If I were a Time Lord trying to stop the enslavement and death of millions of innocent Spiridons and Thals, what would I do._

"There's gotta be something here. Something that would trigger this. One key event that he wants to change." She turned to him, seriously, "Jack, he could cause so much damage here. One change, just one little thing..."

The anxiety in her eyes must have caught him, because, for once, he echoed her seriousness, "I know." He glanced around him, frustrated, "And we're stuck in this damned _room_."

"There must... there must be something..." Myra got to her feet, scanning every inch of the room, frowning, and then walked over to the wall, "Hang on, what's this here."

Jack bounded up, joining her, "Remote control. Try it."

She pressed down the one button on the small black pad, hesitantly. A creak echoed through the room, and a groan, the groan of moving metal. Myra took a few quick steps back, feeling Jack doing the same next to her, "What the..."

Light shone into the room as the top section of the wall opposite them seemed to pull away, running down, folding into itself.

"It's a damned window." Myra said, laughing slightly.

"Yeah. Look."

* * *

Myra looked, and found her breath caught in her throat. They were out of the forest now, the complex standing in a field of green. Mountains and hills decorated the horizon, and the sky was a bright, beautiful blue, with a huge orange sun burning, sending a gorgeous light flooding into the room. There was a river nearby, and it sparkled blue and white, and she could almost hear the trickling of water.

"Out of the jungle, then." Jack said, slowly.

She glanced at him, feeling a grin spread across her lips, "You were saying about a better view?"

"You know what, darling, it's pretty nice, but I think I prefer the one I already have."

"Oh, shut it." She continued looking at the scene in front of her for a moment, breathless. Then she shook her head, "There could be hundreds of Spiridons right there and we wouldn't know."

"Yep."

"And we're staring."

"Uh-huh."

She looked at him again, "Better close it down?"

"Better had, yeah."

She flicked the switch again, and the huge blind started creaking back into position.

Then something caught her eye. "Whoa, wait, wait a second, did you see that?"

"See what?"

She drew the blind back up again, focussing on a specific hill in the distance, "I... I swear I just saw..." she faded off, looking at the horizon, uncertainly. Then she shook her head, "I don't know. Never mind, it's nothing."

"No, what? What did you see?"

"I don't know, like a sort of...." she stopped again, frowning. Then she shook her head, "Like a sort of... _light_."

"What sort of light, what did it look like."

"Fire. It looked like fire."


	12. Chapter 12: Conjecture

_Not of This World __chapter twelve: __**'Conjecture'.**_

"Don't make war sound like an exciting and thrilling game. Tell them about the members of your mission that will not be returning - like Maro and Vaber and Marat. Tell them about the fear, otherwise your people might relish the idea of war. We don't want that."  
_(The Doctor - Planet of the Daleks)_

_Disclaimer - Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 12 - Conjecture**

The Doctor was pacing the floor again, this time far from casually. He didn't know how exactly long it had been since the Spiridon guards had left him here - about thirty-seven minutes, he guessed - but every single one of those minutes had been spent thinking hard.

Living Rot. Alive, but bodies decomposing. Skin slack, body twisted, blackened, as if burned. Invisibility fading, fluctuating - _Spiridons do not become visible until after death. We are not sure of what this means_ - and that was a natural, _physical prerequisite_, like breathing, like the heart beating, but, no, they had managed to counteract that _too_, _one beat every __**two minutes**_, that was _insanely_ slow. Slowing down as the infection progresses... deteriorating with time... He had only heard of a pulse so slow in basic anthropoids once, and that was in himself, after the Master had shot him, when he had shut down the aid the healing progress, on this very planet. It was impossible.

Okay, fine, leave the life signs. Move on. The light. The ultraviolet radiance surrounding the bodies. It could be oxidised phosphine and methane, with another added element to create the shade. The bodies were rotting. Organic decay produces phosphine and methane. Phosphine spontaneously ignites when in contact with oxygen. Causing fire, causing light, like a soft, gentle glow. Anything could have been thrown in to make a chemical reaction, turning the glow blue. Perhaps something unique to Spiridon's atmosphere, it was entirely possible.

It all would make sense if it weren't for one thing.

"The glow produced by oxidised phosphine and methane doesn't pulse," he muttered, shaking his head, "It stays constant. Sometimes sort of _flickers_, like flame, but this is different, an actual _pulse_, oscillation, like an electric light with low power reserves. And... not in time with the loss of invisibility."

Were they unconnected? The symptoms were all there, but were they of different infections?

The Doctor shook his head and gave a frustrated little growl, his pace speeding up in his agitation. Okay, then what about the _other_ light. The light Vari had said had - what were his words? Oh, that's it. _Passed_. The light that passed between the men, knocking them down almost instantly. He had never heard of anything like it. Was it synthetic? Some sort of... new technology? Sentient? A few months ago that thought would have never even crossed his mind, but after Midnight... hadn't _that_ creature passed from host to host?

Hang on, what about a psychograft? Some sort of... adjusted... virus-programmed psychograft? That went with a sort of glow. But, again, soft yellow, not blue.

He threw up a hand, rumpling his hair, furiously, shaking his head. He had to get back in that medroom. In here he could do nothing but speculate, nothing but conjecture. He needed to get back in that medroom. He needed to do more tests. If he could get a sample back to the TARDIS -

The door creaked open, and his attention immediately snapped to it. His eyes moved over the empty room, cautiously, and he watched as the padlock on the cell bars lifted up, a key clicking into place and unlocking it. The cell opened, and something collided with him as it was pushed obviously quite roughly inside. The Doctor got back to his feet and moved swiftly over to the bars as the padlock started locking again, "Let me help, or, I promise you, this infection will take you all. It's never gunna stop. You're all going to die. Please. Let me help you."

There was a long pause. And then the door opened, and shut again.

* * *

The Doctor leaned back against the wall, wearily, closing his eyes, "When will they learn..."

"You are new, it is to be expected."

He glanced at the empty cell, shocked, "_Vari_?"

"Yes. It's me."

He gave a relieved laugh, "I thought they had _killed_ you!"

Vari returned a hollow version of his relief, "Yeah. So did I."

He frowned, "What d'you mean?"

"I mean..." there was a scuffle, footsteps, and a slight scratch. Vari sighed, quietly, and it became obvious he had sat down somewhere, "Nothing. I am fine. I am still alive, at least."

"Vari, I... I'm sorry."

"You looked at my infected brothers and you gave ideas that could lead towards a diagnosis," he replied, firmly, "Doctor, I regret _nothing_." There was a short pause, "Have you thought more on the cause?"

"Yes. And, Vari, I... I can't do any more here. I need to get a sample back to the TARDIS to run some proper tests."

"The TARDIS?"

"My ship. It's called the TARDIS, it looks like a big blue box, it's how I got here."

He thought for a second, "Has it got white writing on the sides?"

"Yeah, yeah it has, how did you know?"

"We have seen it. That is _your_ ship?"

"Yes." Then panic hit him, "Why, who _else_ would it belong to?"

Vari didn't reply. He sighed again, wearily, "My brothers will never allow you to return to your vessel. That will never happen. They are watching you, closer than you know. They are watching the _both_ of us. You are right, Doctor. This infection will take us all."

"Well, they can't keep me locked up here for_ever_, right? As soon as I get out I'll -"

"You don't understand, Doctor. My brothers... they consider you coming here as an act of war. This infection, your arrival, they were all far too close together to be considered coincidence. They believe in you lies the extinction of the Spiridon race."

"Okay," he said, slowly, "What about you. What do _you_ think."

Another heaved sigh, "I believe you are trying to help. But... the transport you came in... the blue box, the... _TARDIS_... my brothers fear the TARDIS. They consider it to be the cause of the curse. They mean to destroy it."

"Well, they won't be able to."

"They will find a way."

The Doctor shook his head, "It's impossible. No offence, but you're just... not _advanced_ enough. Close to _nothing_ can kill a _TARDIS_."

"They will find a way. And now they have the others..."

"Others?" he repeated, sharply, his voice suddenly urgent, "What d'you mean, _others_."

"They lied to us, Doctor. If she hadn't have lied..." he sighed again, and there was something behind the expression, so world-weary, so beyond hope, that the Doctor began to shiver, "The male will tell my brothers how to destroy the blue box, Doctor. They will make him. But the female... it is too late now."

"Too late? What d'you mean, too late." Vari didn't reply, and he advanced on him, angrily, "What do you _mean_, _**too late**_?!

But the Spiridon stayed perfectly quiet, perfectly calm. And then said the worst thing he could say. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Myra stood up as the door opened and shut, silently. She gave a small smile. Then, as the silence continued, it faded, "Hello?"

No answer. Jack was frowning at her, "Was that...?"

"Yeah. But... was it someone _arriving_... or _leaving_?"

She got up, walking towards the door. Once again, she hesitated, and then placed her hand on the metal. Nothing. Just the door.

She paused, and then turned round, "Well, maybe -"

The Spiridon behind them caught her arm hard, before she could turn around, and hurled her back into the wall.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing," she objected, indignantly, yanking at the grips on her, kicking out, struggling with all her might, "_Get_ your hands off me!"

The hands tightened and one was forced over her mouth. She bit at it, viciously, and it quickly retreated, "_Jack_!"

But Jack was fighting against invisible holds himself, barking at the creatures behind him, ferociously.

Myra felt fear flood her stomach and threw herself into an all-out fight, hitting out, fighting like she'd never fought before, not stopping to think how strange this would look, a grown woman fighting against thin air. An arm secured a death grip around her stomach and she winced in pain before digging her nails into the flesh with all her strength, feeling a small shot of savage satisfaction at the pained hiss and immediate withdrawal.

Jack had booted his Spiridons away, and was moving over to her, scrambling hastily for the pistol in his belt.

The Spiridons reacted immediately, and something was forced against her neck, and it was a knife, it was her _own_ knife, they must have taken it out of her pocket, and she cursed herself for having a weapon so easily within reach and not realising it.

"Resist and we will kill her." A dark voice behind her promised, swinging her round so she was facing Jack.

Jack hesitated, his hand on the grip of his gun, still holstered.

Myra shook her head, slowly, "Jack..." Her mind was going haywire. She had had training for this, in the academy. Rules said, plain and simple, do whatever the hostage taker said. When someone has a knife at a civilian's throat... do whatever they say. But when _you're_ the one being taken... that made it a different story.

If Jack stayed with his hand on his pistol... refused to back down... continued to aggravate him... then she would have a window. Anger would make him careless, and, automatically, the knife would move the slightest inch towards the other, the other that was infuriating him, and then it would be go time, snap the hand up, grab the forearm, then elbow to the stomach, dig deep into the soft spot a hand's breath below the chest, under the ribs, turn, twist, and then the blade would be turned up to _his_ neck, and then gravity would finish the job for you. She knew she could throw him off deftly, and just as easily turn the knife against him.

But she didn't want to.

"Jack," she repeated, quietly, nodding at the pistol he was so ready with, "He wouldn't have wanted this."

"He left you with me," he replied, angrily, "He left you in _my_ care."

She raised an eyebrow, sceptically, "Oh, so you think I can't take care of my_self_?" she paused, then sighed, "Jack. He wouldn't have wanted it like this. You _know_ that."

Anger and frustration and pain burned through the Captain's eyes. The expression forced a shiver through her spine. It reminded her of that time on Satellite Five - or _Gamestation_, or whatever - that time when Rose had been caught by the Anne-Droid. That time when he thought she had been killed.

"It's not your fault." She said, softly, "And I'll be fine. Let go."

He hesitated. Then he nodded, slowly. He raised his hands, and they were immediately wrenched behind his back, his pistol plucked out of his holster and flung onto the low bed they had sat on together less than half an hour ago.

The pressure was relieved from her throat and hands tightened into rock-like holds on her arms, dragging her back towards the door.

They pulled her out of sight, and, just for a second, she fought to get back in sight, "_Jack_!"

He looked at her, "What?"

"Just... you better get out of this okay."

He managed a weak laugh, "Was that concern there, honey?"

"No, purely selfish. If _you're_ out of the picture then who else would I endlessly humiliate in the TARDIS?"

He laughed again, "Got me on that one, sweetheart. If it helps, I wouldn't exactly want to see _you_ out of the picture, _either_."

"Why?"

He winked at her as the Spiridons dragged them away, "Well. _He's_ hard _work_. Plus you're not half-bad a kisser."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut it."


	13. Chapter 13: Orders

_Not of This World __chapter thirteen: __**'Orders'. **__The Spiridons act on their distrust._

_Disclaimer - Strangely enough, I don't own Doctor Who_

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Orders**

"Where are you taking me." Myra asked, calmly.

"You lied to us."

She raised an eyebrow, playing nonchalant, all the while paying furious attention to where they were going, "That's actually not an answer..."

"You _lied_ to us."

"Mm, _you're_ a clever one... Took you long enough."

"You lied to us. You lied about who you are. You are allied with the stranger. You are his friend."

"Friend is such a limited word," she replied, thoughtfully, "At the _moment_ I'd like nothing more than to _swing_ for him."

"You were trying to release him."

"Yeah, well, you got that right." Second left, left again, first right, straight on... "Why are you holding him, anyway?"

"He is the cause of this."

"The cause of what?"

"The blue box. The... _Public Call_ Box. That is the cause of the infection."

"The cause of _what_ infection."

"Do not act like you are unaware. You know of what we speak."

Myra sighed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "Actually, I don't. Why are you holding him. And where did you take Jack."

"Your Captain will tell us how to destroy the Blue Box."

She laughed, "Oh, I doubt it. I doubt he even knows _how_. I doubt _more_ whether it's actually _possible_."

"He will know. If he wants to live, he will know."

Myra laughed again, "Well, I think trying to kill _him_ is probably just about as futile as trying to kill a _TARDIS_. They're both... pretty indestructible."

"Nothing is indestructible."

"Well." She took a breath, and gave a small, lopsided smile, "We'll find out, won't we? Now. Back to the original question. Where are we going."

"You have brought the infection here."

She shook her head, "I haven't done _any_thing. The only things I've brought here are in that bag you're holding, and if you wanna search through it, feel free."

"We will. But we do not think that whatever is in this container is the cause of the virus. We think it is _you_."

"Wait, _I'm_ the cause of an infection?" she shook her head, frowning, "But... I'm not sick. Am I? I _can't_ be the carrier. Can I?"

"It is a virus that attacks only Spiridons, manufactured in a lab, no doubt."

"And how d'you know _that_?"

They didn't reply. They had moved out of the smooth, man-made walls and back into the catacombs. It was still hot, but it was cooler than it had been. Maybe it was nearing nightfall. Myra almost shivered at the thought. Soon it would be getting one hell of a lot colder... She hoped whatever these guys would get whatever they were planning over and done with before nightfall.

They finally seemed to have arrived. The Spiridons stopped abruptly at what looked like a large, glass box. Myra frowned at it, and then realised it was in fact a door. The glass door led into a sort of tunnel that was like a T-junction, going left and right, but the paths both ways were blocked by grated metal fences, like bars, making the room on the other side of the door large enough to stand in and walk around, but not much else. Like a... cupboard, or a box room. Myra had a nasty feeling the word might be 'cage'.

She glanced back, feeling an odd little flip in her stomach as she once again addressed her words to the wall on the other side, "What's that?"

No-one answered. She turned back to the room again. The walls behind the door, instead of the dull red they were of the other side of it, were a bright, shining white, dripping slightly, like frost.

_Like ice_.

* * *

Immediately fear flooded her brain and Myra threw herself back, trying to get away from the door. The Spiridons, however, seemed to have expected this movement, and forced her forwards, hands tightening painfully on her shoulders, her arms, the back of her neck.

"No. _No_. _**No**_!" she fought ferociously, pain and fear cutting into her as they wrenched her towards the door, throwing it open, and fighting to get her inside.

Myra grabbed hold of side, struggling. She could feel the cold seeping out of the enclosure even from here. "Whatever you want, whatever's going on, I can help! The man that you captured, he can _help_ you, he's the only one that _can_ help you, just let me go, _let me GO_!"

They managed to get her inside, but she dashed forwards, managing to get her booted foot in the way of the door, stopping it from closing, "Please, whatever this infection is, whatever's killing your people, he can _help_ you, just _talk_ to him, let him explain! _We don't mean you any harm_! LET. ME. _**GO**_!"

The door slammed shut in her face, sending her staggering back a few steps, flinching and cursing under her breath as her bare shoulders touched the freezing cold wall behind her. She was shivering, molten ice dripping down on her every now and then and making her flinch and curse. She was in a fissure. An ice fissure. And, any second...

No. No no no no _no_! She moved over to the door, angry now as well as scared, and smashed her fist into it. She paused, and then rested her head down on it for a moment, tears freezing on her cheeks, her breath misting in the air in front of her.

"How long until the next pressurisation."

"Seven minutes."

Myra gave a small, slightly hysterical laugh. Seven minutes. Nice to know the numbers.

"Yarma, Weri, Odico - stay here, make sure she doesn't get out."

"Fine."

"Sure.

She shook her head, almost disgustedly. Then she turned, looking over the metal bars, carefully. A particularly violent shiver went through her, and she crossed her arms, tightly, trying to keep even the slightest amount of warmth. Her lungs ached with the cold, and the shudders going constantly through her body shook up her breathing. She shook her head again, forcing herself to concentrate.

_Okay, Myra, __**think**__. It's okay. Look. Bars. Metal. Don't touch them, the last thing you want is to get your skin stuck to them._

Myra moved back a few steps, glancing anxiously over her shoulder to make sure she didn't touch the other side, and then threw the bars a vicious kick. A huge clang echoed through the tunnels, but the bars didn't give. She tried it again, putting all her strength into the movement, the way she had been trained to knock doors down in the Academy. No result. She was shaking unstoppably now, with cold and anger and pain and fear. She turned, frantically, looking over the glass door, trying to find some way of opening it.

"It's locked from this side."

* * *

Myra turned furious eyes up to the invisible Spiridons on the other side of the door, "Let me out. _Let_ me _out_!"

"No."

"The ice is gunna pump through here. The ice is gunna pump through here and I'm gunna die. Please. Let me out."

"No. We have our orders."

She turned her back swiftly, trying to deal with her fear and anger. Then she spun back, "_Listen_ to me. I didn't come alone. You kill me and you'll have to deal with a vengeful Time Lord, you want that?"

One of the Spiridons gave a short, hollow laugh, "Oh, your little friends will prove no problem. They will tell us a way to destroy this _TARDIS_ and then we will destroy them as easily as we will _you_."

She narrowed her eyes, advancing on them slightly, "You know, I could forgive you for this if you didn't _relish_ it so much." She glanced at the walls again, thinking quickly. Then she shook her head and turned back to the glass door, "You're seriously gunna stay and watch this? Watch me die? Is that what you want?"

"We have our orders. It is our job."

Disgust pumped through her. She now fully understood why the Doctor had hated the phrase so much during that time on Satellite Five, "Your _job_?! You _choose_ your job! If someone... ordered you to jump off a _cliff_, would you do it?!"

Silence. She shook her head again, trying a different route, "You got any children?"

"We don't have to -"

"Yes." Another replied, defensively, "What of it?"

"What you gunna tell them when you go home today?" it was getting hard to speak. Her teeth chattered, and the tips of her fingers were blue, "'Hey, honey, what you do today?', 'Oh, just the usual, woke up, went to work, watched a public execution, had lunch, came home'? Is _that_ what you're gunna tell them?"

"Ignore her," the first replied, disgustedly, "She wants a reaction. She wants to affect you."

"And _why_?" she continued, regardless, "Because she was _different_. Because you didn't know her. Because you were scared of this infection thing - whatever the hell it is - and you were looking for someone to blame it on. And who else but the newcomer, hey? You're saying you're okay with that, are you, Adolph? Or maybe you're just doing it because you were _goddamned __**ordered**__ to_!"

"_Enough_!" he snarled, and something smashed against the glass, making her jump back and then give out a strange sort of yelp as her back collided with the freezing stone, "You will not affect us, alien. You will pay for your crimes."

Her eyes filled despite herself and she angrily wiped them away, "But I haven't _done_ anything! I haven't got any crimes to _pay_ for!"

One of them tried to speak before the first cut over him: "You are a liar!" he spat, and she flinched back slightly at his anger and hate, "And you will _pay_ for what you have done to our brothers! Our brothers who _decay_ and _die_ because of you!"

She stayed still for a second, shaking her head, "What d'you mean _decay_?"

A rumble moved through the floor, and Myra glanced swiftly to either side of the tunnel.

She turned back to the Spiridons, urgently, "Look, just let me go. They will never know, just let me go, let me out of here, _please_, _**let me go**_!"

"That's it." The first Spiridon said, disgustedly, "We leave her."

Myra immediately panicked, "_No_! No, _don't_!"

The second Spiridon sounded uneasy: "But we were told -"

"I know what we were told. But she's trying to manipulate us, and I am not going to let her succeed. We leave her. Stand guard at the end of the corridor."

"But, shouldn't we -"

"_No_. That was an order. _Move_."

Her eyes widened at the sound of footsteps and she threw herself at the door, "No! _No_! No, don't leave me here! Please!" The silence echoed back to her, and she slammed her hand against the door again, "_NO_!"

Nothing. No reply. They'd gone. They'd left her.

She shook her head, quickly, and turned her full attention to the door, yanking at the handle with numb hands, shaking uncontrollably.

_I am not dying in here._ Her mind said, viciously, _I am __**not**__ dying in here. Not here, a planet a million miles away, alone._

Alone.

Last time she faced death like this, she had the Doctor. Last time she had the TARDIS.

Last time she had Faye.

_Oh __**God**__! They'll never know! I… I'll have just... __**disappeared**__. And they'll always be waiting._

Her eyes filled again and this time not even her anger could stop them. She banged viciously on the glass for a few moments, then she shook her head, tears pouring down her cheeks, and sank to the floor, leaning her forehead against the glass. Water froze on her face, but she didn't brush them away. She just stayed still, crouched down, arms wrapped around her to try and keep in the slightest warmth, shaking as she felt her lips turn blue. Myra knew about death by the cold. Maybe the cold in here would get to her head before the pressurisation, and she'd just... fall asleep.

Or maybe she'd be awake, feeling everything as the sub-zero ice attacked her skin, shutting down her organs, one by one.

_I have to get out of here_.

She shook her head, burying it deeper into her arms, trying to get away from the cold, the cold she could somehow feel right the way through to her bones.

_Doctor_.


	14. Chapter 14: Time to Choose

_Not of This World __chapter fourteen: __**'Time to Choose'.**__ Myra can do nothing more than wait, the Doctor can do nothing more than pace, and now Jack can do nothing more than watch. But the Doctor is determined to find a way._

_Disclaimer - As pre-stated, I don't own Doctor Who :(_

_

* * *

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**Chapter 14 - Time to Choose**

Jack was pushed backwards until he sat. He suppressed a grimace as his bruised back collided with the wood, but didn't make a sound. His eyes flickered over the room he was in, constantly. But how could you fight something you couldn't see?

"Where have you taken Myra." He asked, quietly, keeping his voice firmly calm.

"That is none of your concern. _Yet_."

"What d'you mean."

"You are strong." He heard footsteps around him, and reflexively turned his head to the noise, "The female told us you were immortal. That you cannot die. That you will never die."

"Well," he said, slowly, "Dunno about _'never'_. Haven't had enough time to _test_ it, _have_ I."

"So, if _you_ cannot die... then it appears we have lost that aspect of fear."

"I suppose you have."

There was no reply. Jack shifted in the wooden seat, holding back a wince as the results of the Spiridons' hospitality ached in protest, "What do you want."

"The ship you came in. The TARDIS. We want it destroyed."

He raised an eyebrow, sceptically, "You want to kill the TARDIS?"

"It _will_ be destroyed. Everything can be destroyed. And you will tell us how."

He laughed, shaking his head, "Listen, you picked the wrong guy. I know _nothing_ about that ship. I have no _idea_ how to kill it."

"But you could help us find a way."

"And why would I do _that_."

The Spiridon paused for a moment. Then footsteps rang out again as the thing moved. A monitor in front of him flicked on, and his heart froze in his chest.

* * *

"Myra." He said, reflexively, her name slipping from his lips. She sat huddled on the floor, in some sort of white, rock cage, one hand on a large glass window, her head resting on her knees. Shivering. Jack looked over the monitor, disgust and anger growing swiftly, "What _is_ this." He asked, his voice deadly quiet.

"You don't know? _She_ did. She obviously knew very _well_."

"It's an ice fissure, _Captain Harkness_," another replied, and he felt a hand squeeze tight on his heart, "One that is expecting an eruption in approximately six and a half minutes."

"_And they've got these things, these... __**fissures**__, and, every now and then, the pressure builds up and bursts to the surface, like with volcanoes."  
_"_But with molten ice."  
_"_Yeah."  
_"_Ouch..."  
_"_Yeah. The Spiridons use the ice volcanoes as a cooling system, they've got tunnels and shafts covered in ice all around this place where they've dug out to meet the fissures."_

Jack could feel his heart pounding in his hands. He forced his emotion down, as far as it would go, and looked up, coolly, "Is there a point to this?"

"Yes. The point is simple. You will help us destroy this TARDIS... or you will watch her die."

_Oh God, no_.

He ignored the emotion and raised an eyebrow, giving a small, sceptical snort, "And what makes you think I care?"

"You cared before. With that knife to her neck. You retreated."

"That was within my best interests too."

"You are a terrible liar." They paused for a moment, Jack's eyes flickering between the floor and the monitor, unable to watch the girl's shivering form for long.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and someone leant down to his ear, "You care for her." The voice was soft, silkily persuasive, "You tried to protect her before. Are you willing to watch her die?"

Jack stayed quiet for a long time. He looked up at the monitor, keeping his eyes on the screen. Then he nodded, slowly, "No."

The hand left him, "Good. Now. The TARDIS. How can it be destroyed."

"I... I don't know from here. I'll come with you to have a look, there'll be some sort of program, some way of... But first... let her go. Let Myra go."

"No. You will tell us now."

His hands clenched on the sides of the chair and he felt his heart pump faster, "I will. I _will_ tell you. Let her go. We'll talk. Just let her go."

"I don't think so."

Panic burst inside him and something snapped, anger joining fear, "Look, she's only got six minutes, just _let her GO_!"

"Then you will be quick and _concise_." The Spiridon replied, sharply, "_Tell_ me. How can it be destroyed."

He shook his head, "I don't know."

"Then make an educated guess."

"I don't _know_! I don't _know_ the TARDIS! I don't think it's even _possible_!"

"_Nothing_ is _invincible_! _How can it be destroyed_?! Tell us, _Captain_, or her death is on _your_ conscience."

Jack shook his head, shutting his eyes and pressing his palms over them for a moment, trying to force himself to calm, to think properly. Then he opened his eyes. Myra was rocking gently, her hand down from the glass and wrapped around her knees, her frozen puffs of breath visible even on the static-filled monitor.

Jack shook his head again, slowly, "Fine. Fine. You wanna destroy the TARDIS then there's... there's one man you need to talk to. But... it's not me."

* * *

Myra squeezed her eyes shut and tried to forget the cold. She tried to get out of her head, think of something else, force her mind away from this frozen cage.

She thought about the last time. The first time she had met up with the Doctor. Waking up on a hospital bed, no idea where she was, no memory of what had happened to her. She remembered the anthromorph tearing its way through her mind, and the Doctor, the Doctor stopping it, forcing him back. She remembered his hands on her skin, on her flushed face, fingers under her hair, so soft. The way he flicked through her memories like he was one of them.

She remembered seeing Donnington again, and her mother, and her father, before he went and screwed everything up, before he left them, and Faye as a child, his voice her only beacon, the only thing keeping her in that world.

"_Okay, Myra, okay, you're okay. I've got you. I promise."_

She could remember the promise he made to her, the promise to keep her safe, to look after her, to take her home.

"_I will __**never leave you here**__, Myra. Believe that."_

What would happen to Jack if she never came home. He'd just... wait. And wait, and wait, and wait, and then... then _what_? What would Faye think? What would _Maddie_ think, little Maddie, that cute, sweet little girl.

No. Stay away from that. Stay off that. Move. Keep going. Mbea, think of Mbea. The heat of the desert on your face and skin, so hot. Down in those tunnels, the lava boiling away, the Farons, ready to lead you to an early grave, their singing... the Doctor, grabbing you by the arm, pulling you back.

Myra kept her eyes closed, feeling the warmth of his arms around her shoulders. She let out a long, low sigh, resting her head against the glass. Not long now.

* * *

The Doctor was pacing again, viciously, furiously, anger pumping around him so hot it physically hurt.

"Doctor."

"Don't even try it, Vari. Don't even say it."

"Doctor, it is too late."

He turned on him, eyes flashing, "_It is __**not **__**too late**_!"

He shook his head and reassumed his pacing, and the Spiridon tried again: "Doctor, I am sorry. I am so sorry, I know the female meant a lot to you, but -"

"_Her name is __**Myra**_! And I will help her. You don't understand, I brought her here, this is my fault. I left her. I left her alone."

"You didn't mean for this to happen." The Doctor didn't reply, and Vari hesitated for a moment, "Doctor. What are you going to do."

He nodded, fervently, still pacing, "I'm gunna save her."

"How."

"Give me time. I'll think of a way. I am going to save her. I _will_ save her."

The Spiridon gave a low, weary sigh, "It's impossible."

"_Watch_ me. I like impossible. Impossible is _nothing_."

"Doctor -"

"Shut up." He stopped, abruptly, thinking quickly, "I think... I think I've got an idea."

"You _think_?"

"Shut up. Are there any Spiridons in this room?"

"No. Why."

He paused, biting his lip, unconsciously. Then he span on his heel, "Do you trust me?"

"Why." Vari asked, sounding wary.

"Do you _trust_ me."

There was a long pause. "Yes. Yes, Doctor, I trust you."

"Good. Because I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"I need you to kill me."


	15. Chapter 15: Following by Example

_Not of This World __chapter fifteen: __**'Following by Example'.**_

"'Cause this is what _I'm_ gunna do - I'm gunna _rescue_ her. I'm gunna save Rose Tyler from the middle of the Dalek Fleet, and then I'm gunna save the Earth, and then, just to finish off, I'm gunna wipe every last _stinking_ Dalek outta the sky!"  
"But you have no weapons! No defences! No plan!"  
"Yeah. And doesn't that scare you to death!" _(S01E13)_

_Disclaimer - Again, I don't own Doctor Who_

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**Chapter 15 - Following by Example**

"Doctor?" Jack moved into the room, quickly, "Doctor, we haven't got much time, they've got -" he stopped in his tracks, his heart missing a beat, "_Doctor_!"

He ran the rest of the way to the cage, yanking at it, "Get this thing open!" he barked, frantically, "_Now_!"

The padlock on the door clicked open, hastily, and Jack barged his way into the room, falling to his knees by the Doctor's side, putting his hands on each side of his face, shaking him, "Doctor? _Doctor_!"

No reply. His hands moved down to his neck, pushing down on the artery, urgently. He stayed that way for some time. He took his fingers off and tried on the other side, unsure of Time Lord biology. He got the same result. Nothing.

Jack fell back on his heels, feeling his back collide with the bars, painfully. He didn't care. He barely _noticed_. He stayed perfectly still, eyes fixed on him. Then he looked up at the open door, "He's dead. He's dead, the Doctor's... _dead_."

There was muttering. He couldn't tell what about. He couldn't distinguish their words from the heavy pumping of his heart.

He shook his head, "But... but he should regenerate. Why... why isn't he _regenerating_?"

_Too fast. _A small part of his scrambled mind answered, _It happened too fast for him to regenerate. He didn't have a chance._

Too fast. He didn't have a chance, couldn't save himself. The Doctor was... _dead_.

And if _he_ was dead... so was she.

"_Hey! Hey, where are you taking her?!"  
_"_Jack, please, Jack, just __**cool**__ it!"  
_"_He __**trusted**__ me, Myra! Let her __**go**__! Listen to me. __**Listen**__ to me, Myra! I'll find you. I __**promise**__ you, I'll __**find**__ you."_

"Brother, what have you done." One of the Spiridons said, his voice hushed.

"Exactly what you should have done hours ago." There was a short pause, "I broke his neck. I made it quick. He deserved better, but... sometimes that cannot be helped."

"You killed him." Jack whispered, eyes locked on his face, his hair scattered over his closed eyes, "You... you killed him."

"You're Captain Jack."

He glanced up at where the voice had come from, anger and hate coming quick and hot like lightning, "You goddamned _**killed **__him_!"

"He told me to tell you something."

"_What_?! Was that before you _murdered_ him?!"

"Well it was hardly _after_." Another Spiridon pointed out, grimly.

Jack was hard put to decide which he wanted to kill more.

"Captain Jack," the killer said again, persistently, "He wanted you to know something."

"Like _what_." He snarled, anger and pain pounding through him.

"He said... that he was following your example. The example... you set on the Crucible."

Jack stared at the Doctor's blank face. Then something in the words sparked his attention, and he frowned, glancing up, "What?"

"Your example. After Donna. After the TARDIS. Your example on the Crucible."

He stared. Donna. The TARDIS. The Dalek Crucible, it felt like years ago. But what... what was he saying? What did he _mean_?

"Destruction leads only to destruction, Captain." The Spiridon continued, firmly, "The Doctor _was_ the TARDIS, and the TARDIS was him. To have it destroyed would have broken him."

Jack's heart was pumping hard.

"_The TARDIS has been destroyed. Now, tell me, Doctor... what do you feel? Anger? Sorrow? Despair?"  
_"_Yeah."  
_"_Then, if emotions are so important, surely we have enhanced you."  
_"_Yeah? Feel this!"  
_"_**Exterminate**__!"_

His example. His example in the Crucible. After the first death of Donna, after the destruction of the TARDIS. But... it couldn't be.

"You will pay for your deceit." A Spiridon hissed, and there was a crash of metal as someone was smashed up against the bars.

"Not before you, brother."

There was a snarl of frustration, "Take him. He will suffer the same fate as the girl for his treachery."

"And of the Time Lord?" another asked.

"He has paid his dues with his life. But the sickness remains. We must find a cure. The morgue. Put him in the morgue.

Jack heard people moving towards him and got ferociously to his feet, "Don't you _touch_ him!" Hands grabbed him, hurling him out of the way, an unexpected blow to the face sending blood dripping once again from his mouth, pain cutting deep.

"You will stay silent. We're not done with you yet."

He watched as the Doctor's body rose of its own accord, moved, towards the door. Jack kept his eyes fixed on his. He didn't wink.

* * *

The body was placed in the morgue, with the others, the others dead and dying. Only the worst of the infected few had been placed in this room, the ones that had been predicted death within the day. The Spiridons made absolutely sure they didn't even brush against the infected, and then left quickly, their job done, their orders fulfilled.

Everything was absolutely silent. The ones that had been moved here were too far along in their infections to writhe and fight it like the others. Everything was still, everything dead.

The Doctor twitched.

* * *

"How long."

"Three minutes. Roughly."

Jack looked at the wall, "You want the TARDIS destroyed, I'll do it. I'll do it."

"Why the change of heart?"

"He's dead. He's not gunna miss it. I'll do it."

There was a long pause. "How."

He reached a hand up to his neck, pulling out a long silver chain, his hands moving over the diamond attached to it, "This... is a warp star."

"A star?" He sounded confused. Sceptical. But mostly... _uneasy_. Good.

"A warpfold conjugation trapped in a carbonised shell - an explosion. A... _big_ explosion." He tossed it once in the air and caught it, relishing slightly the sound of the Spiridon's flinch, "You can have it. When you lead me to Myra. If you don't, and she dies..." he looked up, darkly, "Then I'll open it right here."

* * *

The heat. The heat of the suns. The desert. The suns baking down on her face, her back, burning her eyes. Her lips were dry, cracked, her mouth parched. Light and heat and... and...

Was that someone beyond the glass or was it just a trick of the light. A _mirage_. She smiled slightly. And then closed her eyes again.

* * *

"Where. Up here? Keep going?" Jack moved forwards a few urgent, firm steps before he turned back to the 'empty' corridor, fiercely, "Right, I want this place _completely empty_, understood, the whole damned section, anything within a mile, and, luckily for me, I happen to have a lifeform detector on this very handy wristwatch I've got here so I can track you, so, unless you want me to blow this whole station to kingdom come, _get the hell outta here_!"

The Spiridons, understandably, obeyed. He glanced down at his wrist. One heart. He tapped in a few keys, setting an alarm for if that changed, and then nodded, grimly, "Fantastic." He growled, and then started moving quickly down the corridor.

"So how come _I_ don't show up on that thing?"

Jack spun on his heel, "_Doctor_!"

The Doctor grinned, "Hi! What's happening?"

He grabbed the Time Lord and dragged him down into a crushing hug, "You're _alive_!"

"Course I am! Takes more than one invisible man to kill _me_, I'm a _Time_ Lord, last in the universe, all of time and space, just waiting to be discovered, _belissimo_!"

Jack pulled back slightly, frowning at his speech, even more manic and random than usual, "You sound a little..."

"Animated?" he shook his head, quickly, too many times, "Nah, that's, that's just the heart thing."

"Heart thing?"

"Adrenaline rush. When the body needs to protect itself from something that can harm it, like, for instance, a _virus_, it produces adrenaline. I was banking on our kind friends here to stick me in with their infected buddies, 'cause that was just the jolt I needed to get my hearts going again." He gave a large, slightly manic grin, "For the next half hour or so I'm gunna be off the walls, I warn ya!"

"What... how did you... but you... _died_!"

"_Course_ I didn't, don't be thick! They taught me right back at _school_ how to stop my hearts." He paused a beat, grinning again at the expression on his face, "What, didn't I mention it?"

Jack shook his head, "You little piece of -"

"What's that?" the Doctor interrupted, nodding down at his hand.

He grudgingly followed the gesture, "Warp star."

"A _warp_ star? But I thought you left that on the Crucible?"

"I did."

"So what's that?"

He raised an eyebrow, "South Cardiff's finest. Figured you'd approve."

"Ah, nicely played. What are we down here for again?"

"We're down here for -" they both realised at the same time, "_Myra_!"

* * *

"_Myra_! _MYRA_!"

"Doctor. We've got two minutes."

"So what are we waiting for?! Get her outta there!"

"I _can't_, it's _locked_!"

"Then _move_!"

The sound of the sonic screwdriver was high-pitched and piercing in the thin corridor but neither of them noticed it.

"Get her out... c'mon... _quickly_!"

Jack bundled her out of the small glass cage, quickly, wincing and swearing under his breath as he felt the cold seeping out of the enclosure. Her lips and fingers were blue, and she was shaking uncontrollably.

The Doctor fell to his knees by her side, urgently, "Myra? Myra, can you hear me? _Myra_?"

The girl stirred slightly, rolling her head to one side, "Doctor..."

"_Myra_! Aw, _there_ we go, I've gotcha. I've gotcha, don't you worry. You're okay. You're safe. I've gotcha, Myra."

Jack brushed a hand across her forehead and shivered as he felt her frozen skin on his fingers, "She's freezing. We've gotta get her warm again."

He ripped his jacket off his shoulders, watching the Doctor do the same, and then wrapped them both tightly around her.

Myra stirred again. She let out a low, soft groan, "God..."

"I've got you. We've got you, Myra."

"Mbea." She mumbled, her eyes still closed, shaking her head, vaguely, "The desert. The desert planet with three suns..." Her head drooped again, "It's... it's so _hot_."

Jack shook his head, "She's delirious."

But, for some reason, the Doctor was still grinning, "No. No. She's not. She's _clever_. She's _very_ clever. Do you remember Mbea, Myra?"

"So hot..."

"That's it, so hot, so boilingly boilingly hot, d'you remember? Can you feel it? Can you feel the warmth? We're here Myra, it's okay, we're here now."

The Captain shook his head again. She looked absolutely freezing. She was relying completely on them to support her and her breathing was harsh and uneven. Jack pulled her closer, drawing her chest up to his, "Body heat. Should get her warmer."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "Don't get any clever ideas, Captain Jack..."

"What, in _this_ state? I'd probably _kill_ her."

"Mbea." The girl moaned again.

The Time Lord latched onto it again: "Mbea. That's right, Myra. So hot there, d'you remember? So hot."

Jack gave out an involuntary shiver as the cold of her body moved through him. The girl _was_ absolutely freezing; he could see the blue tint clearly on her lips. He reached down and brushed the slowly melting ice off her cheeks, instinctively, and then moved his hands quickly across her arms and shoulders, trying to get some heat back into her body, "That was close. _Too_ close. I've got you. I've got you now."

His watch beeped and he barely glanced at it.

"What's that."

"Proximity alarm. Lifeforms detected."

"Give it here, I'll check it out."

"They'll _kill_ you."

"Haven't yet, _have_ they?

Jack hesitated, and then nodded, ripping the wrist strap off him and pushing it towards the Doctor, not glancing up when he took off round the corner, immediately turning his attention back to Myra.

"Myra?" he whispered, running a hand over her still tangled hair, her scratched apart face, "_Myra_? Can you hear me, doll? I'm here. I told you I'd come, didn't I? I told you I'd find you."

Myra moved her head slightly, frowning as his fingers moved gently over the cuts on her skin. He moved his hand and she batted out at it, weakly. He smiled. Bad-tempered little thing...

She stirred again, this time managing to open her eyes. She frowned up at him, confusedly, "Jack? Jack, why are you... what's going..." she paused, and then looked down at the way she was positioned, sitting in his lap, drawn up close to him, his arms wrapped around her, "Get... get your hands off of me!"

Jack grinned, "_Body_ heat, darling. Stopping you from freezing into a human icicle."

"Yeah, but... you don't need to enjoy it."

"Well there are _certain_ perks..."

She rolled her eyes and he laughed. Then she shook her head, grimacing as she tried to sit upright, "Took your goddamned time, Harkness."

"Uh-huh."

"_Again_."

"Uh-huh."

"Idiot. Let me go, I wanna get up."

"Right, need some help with that?"

She glowered at him, and he laughed again, knowing that she'd be damned if she was going to _ask_ for his help. He got to his feet, placing an arm around her waist and helping to hoist her upright.

She swayed in her spot, "Whoa. That's... that feels weird..."

"How you feelin'?"

"Pretty funky..."

"_Funky_?

"Something my mum used to say." She adjusted the coats on her shoulders, pulling them closer, shivering a little, "I think I'll keep these for a bit, if you don't mind..." Jack helped tweak the material so it covered her bare skin and she shook her head, trying to snap herself out of it. Then she paused, "Where are we?"

Suddenly the Doctor poked his head around the corner, urgently, probably having heard her, "She alright? She spoke, right, she okay?" he caught sight of the girl, who was looking around herself, confused and vague, and a brilliant, joyous grin moved onto his face, "_Myra_!"

Myra caught sight of the Doctor and immediately straightened slightly, supporting her own weight. She moved over to him, swiftly, and then, without a pause, slapped him hard around the face.


	16. Chapter 16: Down to Business

_Not of This World __chapter sixteen: __**'Down to Business'. **__Friend is such a limited word..._

_Disclaimer - No copyright, no rights :(_

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**Chapter 16 - Down to Business**

The crack of the blow echoed around the room, and, not allowing time for a response, Myra promptly did it again, ferociously. She used her whole strength in the swing, hitting the exact same spot, and, Time Lord or no, she knew it had gotta hurt, "How _could_ you!"

The Doctor looked at her, completely shocked, hand on his now already bright red cheek, "_Myra_, _what_ the -"

"You know full _well_ what!" she replied, furiously, "We land on a planet full of invisible killers and _you_ swan off and leave me on my own!"

"Myra, listen, please, I -"

"Don't you _dare_ make excuses, don't you _dare_! _You_... _**left me**_!"

"You were with Jack, I thought you'd be safe!" the Doctor protested.

"You _thought_ I'd be _safe_?! This is _Spiridon_! You _knew_ we'd get through those damned defences eventually, you _knew_ we'd come after you, and you _still goddamned __**left**_!"

"I knew you and Jack would look out for each other!"

"_Jack_?! You think leaving me with _Jack_ is an _excuse_?! He's an _idiot_!"

Jack looked mildly affronted, "Thanks, y'know, I only just saved your life, and all... How many times is that, by the way?"

"Oh, at last, I get to do something I've wanted to do for years - Captain Jack Harkness, _shut_ up!" she rounded once again on the Time Lord: "And _you_!"

"Myra -"

"How _dare_ you! How _dare_ you do this! You made me a damned promise and you goddamned... _broke_ it!"

"I never -"

"And _why_?! Because you thought you could _change_ something here? Because you thought you could save lives? Because you thought you had the right to change an event _fixed in history_? The goddamned _arrogance_! You pumped-up, self-assured, arrogant _bas_-"

Jack secured a hand over her mouth, "And I think we'll stop that there."

His hands moved to her arms, pulling her back, and she fought with him, ferociously, "_Get_ your hands off me, _I_ am _not __**finished**_!"

"Yeah you are. C'mon, calm down, now."

Myra took in a few long, deep breaths. Then she looked back at the Doctor again, who was still standing stock, shocked, still with his hand on his bruised cheek. She gave him a look that would've made a Dalek flinch and shook her head, "I hope that hurts."

"It certainly _looks_ like it..." Jack muttered, letting go of her, warily, as if just waiting to restrain her again.

She shot him the look and he immediately silenced. She glanced down at herself and straightened her clothing, slowly. Then she glanced back up again. Her anger faded in an instant and she yanked the Doctor down into a hug, ignoring his flinch, "God, it's so good to see you."

"Really?" he laughed, shakily, "Coulda fooled me."

"Sorry."

"Yeah. Yeah, don't... don't worry about it."

"I _am_ sorry."

"I know." He pulled her close for a moment, and then something seemed to occur to him and he tried to pull back, "Oh, wait wait wait, get off me, get off me! The ice, gotta shut the door!" he spun around and slammed the glass door shut. A few seconds later molten ice exploded down the thin corridor, filling the whole room with a gush of cold air, making her stumble back a bit. Her eyes fixed onto the fissure she had been in no more than a minute ago, and what had become of it. What would have become of _her_.

The Doctor took a step back and then turned to them, grinning, "There! That's better, isn't it! Get a bit of cool air in here! That's nice, isn't it!"

Myra stared at him for a moment, "Are you... are you... _high_?"

"No, no no no, it's just the adrenaline I got to start up my hearts again!"

"You _what_?"

"Long story, no time. _Now_! Let's get moving, lots to do, busy busy busy!"

"What do we do." Jack asked, shaking his head, "Where do we _start_?"

"The usual. Save Vari... avoid the Spiridon guards... figure out the cause of the infection... cure the infected... home in time for tea."

"Don't forget the Shadow Proclamation." Myra added, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh alright then, save Vari, avoid the Spiridon guards, figure out the cause of the infection, cure the infected, find out what the _Shadow_ Proclamation are after, avoid them slash defeat them slash distract them with something bright and shiny, get off of Spiridon before more damage to the cosmos is done than strictly necessary, home in time for tea! Simple!"

She shook her head, "But wait wait wait, what infection? The Spiridons said something about... _decay_, they thought it was _us_, what _is_ it?"

"I'll explain on the way."

"On the way _where_?"

He gave a manic grin, "No idea! But, considering there's at least one Spiridon just down that corridor... I'm gunna suggest that we, well..."

"Run?"

"Run. _That's_ it. _Run_!"

* * *

They had been running for what seemed like hours when the Doctor skidded to a halt. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it, and shook his head, "Right. Now. No-one's in range. Stop running. Start thinking. The infection. The fire. The decomposition. C'mon, we need a brainstorm, what do we know."

Myra shook her head, "Doctor, we can't stop here." She looked around her until her eyes settled on a closed door, "Over there, what's that there?"

"Computing." Jack replied, glancing over the symbol on the metal.

The Doctor nodded, quickly, too many times, "Good. Good, I like computing. Allons-_y_!"

He strode over to the door and pulled on it. It was locked. He pulled out his sonic, flicked it deftly onto the right setting, and then pushed it against the lock. Nothing. Not even the shrill whine. He frowned, and held it up to his ear, playing with it.

"Or _not_..." Myra muttered, rolling her eyes.

"What's wrong with it?" Jack asked, frowning.

"I... I don't know, it's like it's... it just needs..." he tapped the screwdriver furiously against the palm of his hand, "C'mon, what you doing, what's wrong?!"

Myra shook her head, wearily, moving forwards, "Stand back."

"What you gunna do, _pick_ it?" The Doctor asked, highly sarcastically.

She knelt down in front of the lock, a hand searching out the slides in her hair and pulling them out, deftly, "Well, actually..."

He stared at her, "Are you... going to pick that lock... with a _hairpin_."

"_Two_ hairpins, actually, it doesn't work with one."

"Oh, right, Police Academy, yeah?"

She shook her head, indifferently, carefully bending the clips into the needed shape, "Actually, no. This particular skill was born out of boredom, a locked drawer and the internet."

"You... learned to pick a lock... when you were _bored_."

"Well, yeah, y'know. Unemployed." She looked over the lock in front of her, frowning slightly, "Some people take up a hobby, some people make sonic screwdrivers, and some people learn how to pick locks. Ouch, it's a disk tumbler... fun."

"Disk tumbler?" he asked, crouching down beside her.

"Disk tumbler locks use flat disks of metal with notches and pegs on each, the notch is the tumbler gate, each tumbler gate must be lined up with the pawl of the bolt mechanism, but you've gotta be careful, use exactly the right amount of pressure, otherwise the pegs'll snap straight through your pick and get stuck, jamming the whole thing."

"Was I supposed to understand _any_ of that?"

She didn't look at him, "Nope, just letting you know the feeling, now shut it, I need silence."

She eased the makeshift pick into the lock, sliding it back, trying to find the furthest tumbler. She grimaced as it turned out harder than she thought and let out a low, frustrated growl, moving a little closer, "I'd usually use sandpaper, gimmie a second..."

"Sandpaper?"

"Feeling out every single grain, it trains your fingers to feel the tiniest clicks, and I thought I told you to shut up."

"Sorry."

She pushed further, ever so gently, leaning close to the lock so she could hear properly. She heard and felt the minute click, and held her hand perfectly still. With her other hand, she eased in the other hairpin.

In the complete, ghostly silence of the corridor, you could easily hear each of the tumblers fall into place and then the lock click open. She backed away, quickly yanking at the door. It opened, easily.

Myra bent her hairpins back and slid them back into her hair, "Super Cop. C'mon. _Allons-y_..."

She moved into the room first, well aware that the two men were still staring at her.

The Doctor was the first to snap out of it, as usual, and was by her side in a second, searching the room, "Captain, they've secured Vari in one of the fissures ready for the next ice flow, but they should have maps of all the tunnels on the computers, patch your detector into the system, find him."

"On it."

"Myra."

"I'm here."

"You're with me. Right. Now. That brainstorm..." he pulled back a strange sort of curtain, grinning as it revealed a wipe-down screen, "Oh good, they've got a whiteboard, I love these things, _now_!" he grabbed a pen and popped the lid, scribbling straight away, going furiously fast, obviously trying to keep up with the speed the adrenaline-fuelled thoughts popped into his head, "Let's get this infection sorted!"


	17. Chapter 17: The Pieces as a Whole

_Not of This World __chapter seventeen: __**'The Pieces as a Whole'.**_

"Chan- it's _working_ -tho!"  
"But how did you _do_ that?!"  
"Ohh, we've been chatting away, I forgot to tell you - _I'm brilliant_!" _(S03E11)_

_Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who_

* * *

**Chapter 17 - The Pieces as a Whole**

The Doctor stepped back a bit from the furiously fast scribbling he had created, his eyes flickering over it for a moment, "Infection. The visibility. The stages. The life signs, heartbeat once every two minutes. The decay. The altered electraura, the light that passed between them."

"The light I saw out on the hills." Myra added, trying to keep up with his hectic thought pattern. Jack had sat down at a computer and pressed in a few buttons until the screen came to life.

"Okay, okay, the _light_." The Doctor moved to the other side of the board, starting a new storm, "Fire. Maybe oxidised phosphine and methane, with another underlying component."

"Phosphine and methane? Produced by rotting flesh, right?"

"Right. It ignites easily, causes the glow you guys call will-o-wisps, you know?"

"Yeah. But that's yellow, isn't it?"

"Yellow on Earth, maybe it's different out here, I don't know."

"Either way it doesn't explain the light causing the infection." Jack pointed out, still tapping away at the computer.

Myra shook her head, her eyes sweeping over the many scrawled words, "There's gotta be something. Something we're missing. What else do we know?"

"Vari said the light looked like fire."

"Mine did too."

"What kind of fire?"

"I dunno, just... like, this bright bright blue... like a Bunsen burner... or _violet_, maybe... like _ultra_violet, y'know?"

"Yeah, that's what the glow around the Spiridons looked like, like an ultraviolet altered electraura. And it looked just like fire?"

"Yeah, flickering, fluttering, sparking, just like fire."

The Doctor shook his head, scribbling fast onto the board, the squeaks of the pen making her wince occasionally, "This all makes sense separately." He gave each point a prod with the pen as he outlined them: "The glow could be oxidised phosphine and methane, appearing blue because the difference in atmospheres. The glow comes from decomposing flesh. The infection causes the bodies to decay. The infection could be a new mutation of the disease you get from the plants, something the Spiridons haven't seen before. And, technically, their bodies _are dying_. And when they die, the invisibility would fade."

"Doctor?"

He glanced round at Jack, breaking his concentration for a second, "What you got for me?"

"I found Vari, he's in tunnel one-eight-two west, junction three."

"Good, when's the next pressurisation?"

Jack tapped some keys, "Apparently... half an hour."

"Okay, plenty time, see if you can close off junction three."

"Gunna take a while."

"Make it take less than thirty minutes, there's a good man." He glanced back at his demented, hyperactive scrawls, for a second lost, "Where was I? Oh yeah. The infection."

"So what is it," Myra asked, shaking her head, "The infection. What is it."

"Dunno, no idea."

"Which means that it's two different things conjoining together to form a new disease. After all, you're the doctor. You'd recognise it if it was something you'd seen, right?"

"I think so, pretty sure, yeah, I've never seen anything like it before."

"So. What are the symptoms."

"In itself?" he shook his head, "Rotting flesh. Not skin, flesh, the flesh underneath. There were no actual external wounds that I could see. Maybe some... metabiological disease, something with the muscles underneath, maybe they're failing."

"What about bacteria. Y'know, that flesh-eating bacteria, what's it called? Necro... Necro... Necrotise..."

He nodded, "Mm. _Necrotizing fasciitis_."

"That's the one, what about that?"

"How's a police cadet like you know about necrotizing fasciitis?"

"Scrubs. So? Could it be a bacteria?"

"No, necrotizing fasciitis rarely occurs off of planet Earth, and definitely not in this time period. Besides, that sort of disease only comes in two forms, type one as a polymicrobial infection and type two as a monomicrobial infection, this is different, it's more like... _homomicrobial_, if such a thing even existed..."

Myra would have admitted she hadn't understood more than a word of that if she hadn't thought it would break his flow, "Okay, so what about _other_ flesh-eating diseases. Like, I dunno... TB or something."

He glanced at her, "Tuberculosis?"

"Yeah, that degrades muscles and flesh, doesn't it?"

"It'd have to be a very fast-acting and unusual form, but... it's _possible_..."

"What about the heart rate," Jack called over his shoulder, still battling with the strangely sophisticated computer system, "The breathing, the reduced life signs, what's _that_ about."

The Doctor shook his head, "A coma. It has to be."

"And it has to be something that attacks the brain for it to cause a coma, right?"

Myra shook her head, "But surgeons put people into comas all the time, for operations, and stuff."

The Doctor nodded, "Yeah, that's called a barbiturate-induced coma."

"Couldn't that be it?"

"Maybe. But it'd have to be self-inflicted."

"So? Maybe it _is_ self-inflicted. Isn't that what _you_ did? The last time you were here? Self-inflicted coma, aiding the healing process?"

He shook his head again, "I was dying."

"So are they." Myra hesitated. Then she opened her mouth again: "Doctor... if... if all the Spiridons die _now_... how are they still alive in the future?

He paused for a moment, as if thinking of something. Then he looked at her, "Time is in flux."

"But Wester... Wester saved Jo's life. And she saved yours. If his ancestors die..."

There was a long silence.

"We've gotta stop it." Jack said, firmly.

"Then let's find out what this thing is and figure out a way to cure it." The Doctor turned back to the board, scribbling down again, "Right. Possibilities. Cat's Crop plague. Miasmic abscesses. Fourth-degree Harlston syndrome. Sorry if I'm going a bit fast, I've had some time to think about it. Malignant TLR. HQV, TRN, _P_RN... Kalterie..." he paused for a moment, looking at the long list, and then shook his head, slowly, "I can't narrow it down. It could be _any_ of them."

Myra looked over his shoulder, "Do any of them link to the light, the fire?"

"Well. That's the question, isn't it?" he gestured at the board, frustrated, "See, _both_ of these things make sense on their own, _both_ are somewhat explainable, but when you look at the picture as a whole, it just doesn't fit! It just doesn't -"

* * *

The Doctor stopped, abruptly. His eyes locked onto the board, moving repeatedly back and forth, widening slightly as if he could see something they couldn't.

"_Fit_." He finished in a whisper, shaking his head again, slowly, "It doesn't go together..." he jumped back a step like he'd been shocked by a hundred volts and then shook his head, full of that amazed, angry, impatient, thrilled realisation he did so well, "Oh, I'm _thick_! _Look_ at me, I've been looking at this all as a whole when it the two pieces don't even fit together, I'm _thick_!"

"What are you talking about." Myra asked, quickly, looking back and forth from the board to him.

He shook his head, grabbing the pen again with a flourish, "I'm talking about _this_!" quickly, swiftly, he drew one long line, splitting off the two brainstorms.

Myra paused for a moment, looking at what he had done, the simplicity of it, and thinking about what it meant, "They're separate."

"Of _course_ they are!"

"Those two brainstorms, you drew them separately. You did it without thinking."

"Yeah! Yeah I did! I did it automatically!" suddenly he looked pleased with himself again, "Ooh, I'm _not_ thick after all!"

"No, just sub_consciously _you're not thick." Jack muttered, shaking his head, wearily.

"But wait, what, all these things are _coincidences_, they're all _separate_?"

The Doctor shook his head, impatiently, "No no no, look, listen, the infection and the light, they're from different things, yeah, but with the same _cause_!"

"Wait, wait a second... Nope, thought not, that really _doesn't_ make any sense. If the origin is different, how can the cause be the same?"

He turned on her, so quickly she jumped, "It's like, like a big, sort of..." he hesitated, looking at her, and then shook his head, "It's complicated."

"I hate it when you do that..."

"Well, Myra, we _are_ on a time limit here, and your puny little human brain probably won't cope with it. No offence."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, of _course_ not, how could I _possibly_ take offence to _that_?" he tried to turn back to the board but she caught his arm, "Doctor. _Try_ me."

He hesitated again, and then nodded, "Okay, so think of this like diseases and symptoms. One of these happened first. That'll be the causing factor. That'll be what we need to figure out. We have to look at these separately. The light. Vari said the light spread the infection. Start with the light. Light needs power - _power_!" he yelled out the word, making her start again, "Of _course_, that's _it_, Myra! _POWER_!"

"What _about_ power?!"

"My screwdriver wasn't working."

She could feel her patience start to melt along with her brain, "_So_?!"

He darted away from the board, pacing ferociously, "Power. Power signals. Light. Electricity. Oh, _oh_, it's in there somewhere, _think_!" he clicked his fingers, "That's _it_!" he spun on her again, this time only bringing out a surprised, muttered curse, "Myra, look at your hair, it's a _mess_."

She raised her eyebrow, "Oh, thanks..."

"Same with mine. Same with yours, Jack."

Jack looked affronted, "You _what_?"

He ignored him, "Now. Myra. Touch something metal." He looked around him frantically before his eyes caught on a large metal cabinet, "That, over there, go on, _touch_ it."

She walked bewildered over to the cupboard, brushing it. Then pain shot through her and she jerked her hand back, "_Ouch_!"

"Exactly. Jack, you go, go on, touch something metal." Jack frowned and brushed the computer box. He yanked back, cursing, and the Doctor nodded, "Exactly."

"That happened to me before, in that prison room." Myra remembered, slowly.

"And me in the hospital." He moved towards her, swiftly, dragging his sleeve back up his arm, "Look. Look at the hairs on the back of my manly hairy hand."

Myra looked. His hairs were standing on end. She moved her eyes up to his head, and then, slowly, held a hand out to his hair. It was drawn to her fingers, as if by magnets.

She looked back at him again, "Electricity."

"Exactly."

"_Static_ electricity."

"_Exactly_. This whole place is absolutely _buzzing_ with static electricity." He pulled his sonic out of his pocket, playing with a few dials, "My screwdriver wasn't working. _Nothing_ can interfere with my screwdriver, almost _nothing_. Certain signals, powerful rays, and a few types of radiation."

"And some hairdryers." She added.

"I'm _working on that_!"

"Can you find out what's interfering with it?" Jack asked, quickly.

He shook his head, "There's something. Power, a signal, there's _something_ blocking it. And all the static, all the energy... Something here is creating one hell of a lot of electricity, using one _hell_ of a lot of power. But _what_."

She shook her head, "Whatever it is, this electricity, is it connected to the infection?"

"No. But it's connected to the _light_. I'm _sure_ it's connected to the light."

Myra's head was reeling. She paused for a moment to get her thoughts back together, try and pull all this information down in a way that would make sense.

Static. Shocks. Electricity. Overload.

She shook her head, "It can't be ionic residue. Wait, what was that with the Judoon... plasma coils, what about plasma coils?"

"They couldn't have caught up with us already, could they?" Jack asked, sharply.

"No no no, this isn't plasma coils. This is something new. This is something different. Something I haven't thought of before." He abruptly sprung back into pacing again, his hands continuingly mussing up his electrically charged hair, "Why. Why haven't I thought of it. Maybe it's something that isn't it this galactic sector, maybe it's something I already ruled out, maybe, maybe it's something impossible."

"Or maybe it's something impossibly _simple_." Myra added, firmly, "Maybe you've just overlooked it. Something basic, something elemental."

"Elemental..." he paused for a moment, the word making him think, "Wait wait wait... Judoon plasma coils... What was I saying, what did I say?"

She frowned, "Uh... when?"

"Just a minute ago, about power, about electricity, _what_ did I say?"

"You said... 'Something here is creating one hell of a lot of electricity... using one _hell_ of a lot of power'."

He jumped back again, bring out a small yelp from Myra, "Yes! That's _it_!" he frowned at her, "Wait, can you remember _everything_ I say word-for-word?"

She nodded, "More or less, yeah."

He shook his head, immediately, "No no no, that's weird."

"I've just got a good memory, what's wrong with that?"

"When was the battle of Waterloo."

She hesitated, "Hastings was 1066."

"I said Waterloo."

"History's not my subject."

"Then how can you possibly have a good memory?"

"Can we get back to the point?!" Jack interrupted, shaking his head.

The Doctor glanced at him, "Oh! Oh _yes_! Something is using electricity! _Power_! Lots... and _lots_... of _power_! Aww, _Myra_, you're a _genius_!"

She shook her head again, "Well, glad you've noticed, 'cause _I_ haven't, what the hell are you _talking_ about?"

"That light... that _fire_... it wasn't fire. It was _plasma_."

"Doctor, you are going to start making sense _right_... _**now**_." She growled.

"That's an _order_." Jack added, firmly.

The Doctor turned to them, "Don't you _see_?!"

"_No_!" they shouted, simultaneously.

He spoke slowly, word by word, curbing his adrenaline-fused excitement, "A coronal discharge... creating a luminous plasma... in an atmospheric electric field."

* * *

Myra frowned, the words bringing up a far-off memory, "Wait. Wait, hold on, I've heard of that. Luminous plasma in an atmospheric electric field, I know that from somewhere."

He spun to her, pleasantly surprised, "You do?"

"Yeah. That's..." she looked at him, confused, puzzled, "That's Saint _Elmo's_ Fire."

"_Exactly_! Basic and elemental, Saint _Elmo's_ Fire!"

"Saint Elmo's Fire." Jack repeated, slowly, "That's... that's the weather thing, isn't it. The one that sailors are always on about."

"Yes, it's named after Saint Erasmus, the patron saint of sailors. The nitrogen and oxygen levels on Spiridon pretty much match Earth, so that's why the colour is still violet. An electric field causes ionisation of the air molecules, producing a faint glow."

"Faint glow?" Myra asked, sceptically, "This stuff's all _over_ the place!"

"Well, Saint Elmo's Fire needs an average of, let's say, one and a half thousand kilovolts of electricity per square meter. The amount of electricity in here _far_ outweighs that, gotta be double, if not _triple_, there's _definitely_ enough for this amount of sightings."

"But how can Saint Elmo's Fire be the cause of the infection?"

He glanced at her, "What?"

"You said one was the disease and one was the symptom. If Saint Elmo's Fire is the disease, how can the infection be a symptom of that? 'Cause an infection can't cause high levels of electricity, _can_ it, it can't be the other way round. So which one is the starting point?"

"I lied."

"You mean you were wrong."

"They're both symptoms. Both symptoms of something else."

"Of... of _what_?"

The Doctor stared into space for a moment, "I don't know. But I think I know how we can find out."

"How."

He look at her, "We've gotta go see those hills."


	18. Chapter 18: Making Friends

_Not of This World __chapter eighteen: __**'Making Friends'.**__ Spiridon has more tricks up its sleeves, but the Doctor's still trying to make up for breaking his promise._

_Disclaimer - Doctor Who = not mine :(_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 18 - Making Friends**

"Did he follow us?"

"How the hell should _I_ know?! Jack?"

"No. No, we're clear. Just us. Four hearts, we're okay."

"Wait, _four_? Oh. Oh yeah, Mr Alien-Attachments over there..."

"Oi!"

"Never mind 'oi', Jack, just where the hell did _you_ get a _warp_ star, I thought you left that thing on the Dalek Crucible?"

"Yeah, yeah I did."

"So what's..." she faded off, looking around them, "Where the hell are we?"

They were standing near the edge of the forest, facing it, a good deal away from the tunnels after their full-out sprint to get out of the Spiridons' base without them being able to follow.

The Doctor was the only one not tired, still zinged-up. He nodded in front of them, "Forest's due east. You saw the Saint Elmo's Fire, where?"

"Up on -"

"No - no no no no." he shook his head, quickly, like a dog. He hesitated for a second, and his attention seemed to slide back onto the trees, staring at them, intently. Then he shook his head again and tried to refocus his somewhat wild eyes on her, "I meant the forest, where was the forest, which direction?"

She hesitated, this side of the Doctor both confusing and unsettling her slightly, "Right."

"So we've got to go north," he pivoted on one foot until the forest was to his right, "_That_ way. Let's move."

"Doctor. Should... should we have left Vari there? What if the Spiridons find him?"

"It would be more dangerous if they _didn't_ find him." He replied, distractedly, glancing around him, twitching slightly in that way that he always did when he was thinking something through again and again. He was obviously still high, and this extra fact alongside his usual animation must be torture for him.

Myra paused for a moment, and then took pity on him: "Y'know, if you want to rant, it won't hurt my feelings if you talk at me instead of to me."

He shook his head, "No. No, some of what goes on up in here -" he tapped his temple with a finger, rapidly, "- should _stay_ in here."

"Listen to me. The fact that you're not speaking those thoughts of yours out loud means they're something you don't think I'll want to hear. But I'm tougher than I look, Doctor. Tell me."

He paused. Then he shook his head, firmly. He seemed to be forcing himself to sober a little. "They got too close last time. I'm not gunna let that happen again. You hear me?"

"What do you mean."

"You were right, Myra. I should never have left you. It's my fault." He looked at her, and forcibly suppressed emotion shook his voice slightly: "You could have _died_. And it would have been my fault. I'd do anything to protect you, Myra, _any_thing."

Myra looked at him, regretting the words she'd said in anger so intently that she felt sick, "Doctor, I didn't mean -"

"No. You didn't. But you were right. You _were right_, Myra."

"You'd never do anything that would put her in harm's way." Jack added, firmly.

"Not intentionally, no. But now I've gotta start thinking about things that'll happen whether I intend them to or not."

Myra shook her head, helplessly, "Doctor, I -"

* * *

Abruptly, a crash and a roar echoed through the clearing, and Myra flinched back. She froze still, looking around, her eyes locking onto the forest, her heart missing more than a beat. Jack beside her had automatically yanked out his pistol.

"What the hell was that." she muttered, keeping her voice low.

Jack shrugged, "Hell if I know," he looked around, "What d'you know about this planet. There's the Spiridons, any other indigenous species?"

The Doctor shook his head, slowly, his breathing already fast, "I didn't exactly have time to check the travel brochure before we landed, Captain."

He sighed, "Well, then it could be anything."

"What d'you think."

"I don't know."

Myra shook her head, "We should get out of here. Like, _now_."

A howl shook the forest, and Jack's grip tightened on his pistol, "It'll follow."

"Then we _run_. Nothing new, right?"

"We don't even know what this thing is."

"A gun won't help you, c'mon, we gotta run." He didn't move and she grabbed his arm, tugging, "Come _on_!"

There was another howl, closer this time, and she forced her breathing to slow down. She could hear the sound of trees smashing as the thing crashed its way through the thick forest, and she tried not to think how strong this thing had to be to get through it so easily.

Then Jack looked at her, "Go. Go now. I'll hold it off, buy you some time."

Her eyes widened, "_Why_?!"

He shook his head, impatiently, "'Cause _I_ can't _die_."

"Yeah, but you can still feel pain!"

"Go. Myra, please, _go_."

"Jack, that thing could tear you to shreds! Who knows if you'll be able to come back from that!"

"I'll take my chances, now go."

"_Hell_ no, Jack! Don't you _dare_!" she turned, wildly, "Doctor! _Tell_ him!

"_Doctor_." Jack said, urgently.

The two men looked at each other for a long time, their eyes saying something that she didn't think she would ever understand. Then the Doctor nodded, slowly, "Meet us at the hill."

"_What_?!" Myra asked, incredulously, "No, you can't -"

"I can. See ya later, darling." Then, without another word, he set off at a sprint into the forest.

* * *

"_No_!" Myra shouted out, fighting with the Doctor's grip on her, "Jack, _**no**_!"

"Myra, _move_, _NOW_!"

The Doctor grabbed her hand, yanking her away from the forest edge, forcing her to run with him.

She fought with his hold, ferociously, "_You can't __**do**__ that_! We can't leave him! Doctor! _Let me GO_!"

"Myra, I told you I'd do anything to protect you. Jack's buying us time. Let's _use_ it."

"So what's _he_?" she asked, eyes flashing with anger, "Collateral damage?"

"_Stop_ it!"

She flinched back, the abrupt sharpness of his voice easily cutting through her. His eyes fixed onto hers, burnt hazel and framed with anger and dormant pain, "He's bought us time. We can get to the hill. We can find out what this infection is all about and we put a stop to it. We can _save lives_, Myra."

"At the expense of your friend?" she asked, shakily.

His eyes locked onto hers for a moment. Then he shook his head, turning from her, "Come on."

Myra looked at him as they ran.

"_That place was flooding and burning and they were __**dying**__ and you were stood there like... I don't know. A __**stranger**__."_

It wasn't the first time she had thought of those words whilst looking at him. The first time was on Mbea, deep underneath the planet's surface, searching for an anthromorph who had killed hundreds, watching him bound into the place with enthusiasm. A man who'd fought and killed for hundreds of years... who still hid that part of him inside. Who, when he wasn't consciously holding it back, still had sparks of it come out.

_No,_ her mind said, firmly, _How could you even __**think**__ that?! You __**know**__ how much he cares, you __**know**__ how much this is eating him up inside, how __**dare**__ you take that road with him!_

There was a long pause as they ran.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He muttered.

"No. Doctor, I am... _so_ sorry. I should never have said that, I should never even have _thought_ that. I'm sorry."

He paused, "I told you I'd do anything to protect you."

"I know. I know you would."

He hesitated, as if about to respond, and then just shook his head. Then he grimaced, a hand moving up to press down on his temple, "Oh, my _head_..."

"I guess the adrenaline's coming down, then?"

"Yeah..."

"Causes one hell of a low, by the way."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm realising that..." he winced again, his tongue pushing against one his top row of teeth, "Should go away after a while... Adrenaline only stays in the system for so long..."

She paused, her eyes flickering over the scene before her, "Well. That's a pity."

"Why?"

She hesitated, and then nodded in front of them, "'Cause it looks like we're gunna be doin' a lot more running..."

* * *

Jack tripped over a vicious tree root and cursed in every language he knew, which was quite a lot. His collar was up and he'd wrapped a torn segment of cloth around his hands so only the skin on his face was showing, but that didn't serve to comfort him. After seeing one of those things drag Myra through the underbrush and then try to _strangle_ her, he had no intent of being caught off his guard.

He kept going, deeper into the forest. The thing had fled, and, usually, he would have let it go, but it had been moving north, the same direction Myra and the Doctor were headed. And he _still_ hadn't managed to get a good look at the thing, so he had no idea what they were dealing with. Only that it was big. _Really_ big.

Jack grabbed his wrist, glancing down to do a scan for life signs, and then cursed even more viciously as he remembered giving it to the Doctor back at the Spiridon's enclave. Probably was gunna disable the vortex manipulator on it again, too, it had taken him _ages_ to get that back online...

Jack stopped in his tracks. He could hear something. Speaking. He could hear someone _speaking_. He spun round, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. He couldn't pick out any words, just the low murmur of a voice. Slowly, his grip secured on his pistol, and he drew it, pointing into the forest. If it was a Spiridon patrol... he didn't know _what_ he would do.

The voice came closer, and his hand tightened on the grip. His heart pounded in his chest. He crouched down, getting lower, pistol out, ready.

Then a roar shook the forest behind him, and he realised just how stupid he had been.

* * *

"Hey! _Wait_!"

The woman kept running and Myra shook her head and tried hard to keep up with the Doctor's furiously fast pace. They had been chasing her for some time now, and why? Because they could see her? Because she wasn't a Spiridon? Because there was an infection going round killing off the locals and they wanted to find out why? Because she was running?

Myra shook her head again, "Stop! Police!"

The Doctor glanced at her, incredulously, "_Police_?"

"Alright, then just... _stop_!"

They kept running, until, finally, the woman shuddered to a stop and turned on them, weapon raised, "Stop right there!"

Myra was all too pleased to oblige. She bent over, panting slightly, weight braced on her hands on her knees, "What... what _is_ she."

The Doctor looked her over for a moment, surprise moving over his face, "She's a _Banarye_. A Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel."

"A _what_?"

"A Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel, from the planet Donjon."

"A Banarye of the Passitic... _Parasitic_ _Rigel_."

"Yup. Look at the skin. Look at the eyes. Typical characteristics for her galactic vector."

The alien looked at them for a moment. "Why are you following me." The Doctor made a move towards her and she instantly turned the pistol on him, "I said _stop_!"

He held up a hand, "Okay. Okay, we've stopped."

"_Why did you follow me_."

He shrugged, "Because you were running?"

She shook her head, sceptically, "I was _running_ because you were _chasing_ me."

Myra gave a weak smile, "Well. What a coincidence..." the Banarye shot her a ferocious look and she nodded, acknowledging her mistake: "Sorry, it's probably bad manners to joke when somebody's threatening you, please, go ahead."

The alien's eyes narrowed. She shook her head, disgustedly, "You're Thals, I take it?"

Myra was just about to open her mouth when the Doctor rode straight over her: "Yep, that's us. Thals, good old Thals, right from Skaro. This is Myra Hull and I'm the Doctor, and you are...?"

"Not someone who appreciates small talk, and _not_ your ally."

Myra raised an eyebrow, "Ooh, nice tempered things these Banarye, aren't they?"

The Doctor chucked her arm, meaningfully, "Call them Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel."

"Do I have to, it's kind of a mouthful. Can't I just call them the Banarye PRs?"

"Well, let's put it like this: would you rather spend a little longer pronouncing their name correctly or irritate a bloodthirsty alien with a pistol in her hand?"

She thought about it, "Okay, point taken. So why are they so bloodthirsty?"

"We are not bloodthirsty," the _Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel_ replied, stiffly, "We relish war and battle as the only way of life."

The Doctor nodded, interested, "Now _there's_ a fact - the Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel are mostly centred on a life of warfare."

"Like the colonists on Tara." She said.

"_Exactly_ like the colonists on Tara. A child of Donjon becomes of age when they take their first kill, so a pacifist Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel would legally stay a child until the day they die."

"There _are_ no pacifists in our species," the warrior replied, sharply, "Such a thing is forbidden."

"What, it's _forbidden_ to be _peaceful_?" Myra said, sceptically, "But that, that doesn't make any _sense_."

The woman looked at her with her strange eyes. "Tell me. Have you ever put a gun to someone's head and pulled the trigger?"

She paused for a second, considering her response, "Uh... I don't know... _maybe_... do you count Planet Laser?"

The Banarye frowned, "Planet... _Laser_? What system is this?"

"Well, it's just past the Great North Road Blockade, of the Stevenage Affiliation, up on the Roaring Meg Retail Park, Intergalactic."

The Doctor nudged her, "Oi. Cheeky."

"But, then again, I didn't really shoot anyone in the _head_..." she continued, slowly, "_Or_ with real bullets..."

"Then you have no idea what it is like to be a warrior." She replied, scathingly, "You do not know the ways of blood and war. You are still a child."

"Wait, I shot my sister in the leg with a BB gun once, does _that_ count?"

"Myra, if you get us both shot, I'm going to be very upset."

"Yeah. Me too, probably."

"You are just a child." The warrior repeated, shaking her head. Then she turned to the Doctor, "And what about you."

* * *

The mood changed in a second, _less_ than a second. "What _about_ me." The Doctor asked, slowly. Myra could hear the warning enter his voice, and something tightened in her chest. Her heart fluttered, nervously. She could see this conversation going very bad very quickly...

"Are you a child? Have you fought? Do you know the ways of war?"

He paused for a long time. Then he nodded, "Yes."

"You have fought?"

"Yes."

"And killed?"

"Oh yes."

"Then we have an understanding."

There was a long pause. "Of course."

Myra could clearly hear the coolness in his voice, but apparently, as good as they were at feuding and killing, Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel weren't that good at picking up on sarcasm, "Good." She holstered her weapon, easily, "You will be responsible for this child. Is that understood?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Y'know, my name's actually Myra. Not child."

"I know your name." The Banarye looked at her for a moment. Then she conceded, "My name is Langton. Katriel Langton." Then she shook her head and started walking, brisk again, "I assume you're here for the same reason we are, correct?"

The Doctor nodded, immediately, falling into pace with her, "Yeah, of course, yeah. And... what reason would that be?"

Katriel shot him a look, "The _energy_ readings."

"Of course, yeah, yeah, of course. And what energy readings would they be?"

Thankfully the Banarye's response was halted as something beeped. She stopped and took something that looked like a strange sort of stopwatch out of her pocket, glancing at it, "We're close." She looked around her, and then nodded towards the hills, starting again, "Up there. C'mon."

Myra paused for a second and then picked up her pace a little to catch up with the Doctor, "Who invited GI Jane?"

He shrugged, "Well, looks like we're headed the same place. Wonder what those energy readings are about though..."

"Power fluctuations? From the energy being used? Maybe she's just picking up the Fire."

"Another thing, though, what are Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel doing on Spiridon? Their home planet is nearly two galaxies away."

"Maybe she's come to sell cookies."

"Or start a war." He added, darkly, "The Spiridons aren't a naturally violent species -"

"You do know they tried to kill me."

"They're _scared_! People are _dying_! Either way, the Banarye are a lot more vicious."

"Maybe they're on a school field trip."

The Doctor shook his head, "If the Banarye are here for a war they're gunna get one. They always do. Unless we stop them."

"Come to see one of the nastiest pieces of space garbage in the ninth system."

"We'll have to find some way of convincing them."

"Of course."

"Unless we want this planet dead before its time, which I very much doubt -"

"I hope Jack's alright."

The Doctor stopped. He hesitated, looking at her, and then shook his head, continuing walking, "He'll be fine. He's tougher than he looks."

She shook her head, "He's only human."

"Mm. You sure about that?"

"Course I am, Jack's _human_ he just can't _die_."

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, "Isn't death part of what _makes_ you human?"


	19. Chapter 19: Monsters vs Time Agents

_Not of This World __chapter nineteen: __**'Monsters vs Time Agents'.**_

"You know, just once I'd like to meet an alien menace that wasn't immune to bullets."  
_(The Brigadier - Robot)_

_Disclaimer - Doctor Who = not mine :(_

* * *

**Chapter 19 - Monsters vs Time Agents**

Jack managed to stumble back to his feet and turn the second the beast crashed through the trees in front of him.

_What the hell is __**that**__?!_

The thing crashed around on eight huge legs and had two massive arms with deadly claws. Its head was long and thin, and was mainly covered with a huge snout. It looked like a cross between a very big dog and a giant spider. The thing roared at him, and Jack hastily fumbled for his pistol, bringing it up to aim at the beast's head. He fired off a few rounds, hitting it around the eyes and in what could be called cheeks. It snarled, but the bullets seemed to have little or no effect.

He shook his head, frustrated, and continued firing; three shots in the head, two in the stomach, three in the head... They all did nothing, and the monster let out a screech and crashed towards him.

He swore under his breath but held his ground, still shooting at the advancing creature. It was close now, _so_ close, he could see each individual scale on its body.

Suddenly, it surged towards him pulling out its massive talons. His mind supplied a suitably vicious curse as the thing swung at him, and he just managed to avoid it, stumbling backwards, his back colliding with a tree, his pistol falling to the ground. Jack shot it a look and then glanced back over his shoulder.

_A rock and a hard place, anyone...?_

It swerved and he ducked, the claws raking four deep cuts in the wood above his head. The thing gave a low hiss. Jack lunged to the left, but the creature blocked it, snarling. He thought quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. Then he made a quick, sudden move, pretending to go to the right and then quickly swinging round to the left again. He succeeded in confusing it and grabbed his pistol once again.

_You're big, but you're not too bright, are ya?_

He squeezed the trigger as quickly as the weapon would allow, unloading the entire clip into the thing's face. It howled and lashed out, throwing him to the ground. Pain split through him as a claw that was easily two foot long sliced across his arm, and he gasped, grabbing the wound.

He glanced up. The thing was right over him. His pistol dry.

_Here we go __**again**__..._

He turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Nothing.

Jack glanced up at the thing above him. It had frozen still. He hesitated. Then started as the thing fell straight backwards.

* * *

Jack stumbled to his feet, the second time in barely as many minutes. He looked at the creature with absolute surprise, shock, confusion. He grabbed a fresh mag from his jacket pocket and reloaded his pistol, still staring at it. Then he approached the downed thing, cautiously. It didn't move. Carefully, he nudged it with his foot, and then, to make sure, fired a few bullets into its skull. No movement.

"_Dead_," he said, slowly, "It's... _dead_." He just stood there for a moment, then shook his head, "How the hell did that happen."

"Are you alright?"

* * *

Jack spun around, and looked at the stranger with suspicious eyes. Her skin was a darkish violet and she had long, red-ish hair. Her fingers were slightly webbed with small but sharp claws, and a small, twisted, yellow decoration moved around one of her wrists like a tattoo. She was quite tall, only about a head shorter than him. Her eyes were a bright, bright silver, and fixed on his.

His eyes flickered over her body automatically, and then he noted the weapon still in her hand.

"Stay right where you are." he ordered, firmly, pulling out his pistol in one flowing movement, aiming for the heart.

The stranger raised her webbed hands, palms out, "Hey, don't shoot, I, I'm not going to hurt you."

He paused for a second, and then nodded, slowly, "Alright. Alright, I'll lower my weapon, but I want you to do the same. Okay?"

She nodded, and did as he said. Jack paused, and then walked over to her, looking her over, "Did _you_ do that?" he asked, nodding towards the dead animal.

"A Sendimin," she commented, shaking her head, grimly, "One of our own. Their hide is too thick for conventional weapons," she showed him the weapon in her hand, what looked like a modified emission cannon, "I've been hunting this one for some time, you're lucky I was here."

He hesitated, and then nodded, "Uh... thanks."

"No problem," she replied, smiling, "I was in the neighbourhood anyway, so to speak."

Jack nodded again. Then he frowned, looking at the girl more closely, "You know, it's odd... but you look somewhat... _familiar_."

She gave a small, almost _nervous_ smile, "Does that line really ever work for you?"

He looked at her for a second. The girl's suddenly darker shade of purple around her cheeks bleached away the shock in his brain, replacing it with something else entirely. He smiled, slowly, "Captain Jack Harkness," he said, holding out a hand, "And _you_?"

He was almost waiting for the Doctor's voice, and his smile deepened a little as he heard nothing.

The girl smiled, hesitantly taking his hand, "I'm..." her eyes widened and she flushed again as he took her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, softly, "Oh... 'kay, I... I was expecting a _shake_, but... but y'know... whatever," she paused, and then shook her head, "I'm... Narla. Narla Garont."

"Narla Garont..." Jack repeated, slowly. He smiled at her, curiously, "You look so familiar..." He paused once again. Then he shook his head, "What did you mean, one of your own. That thing was yours?"

Narla glanced down at the Sendimin on the floor, nodding, "Yeah. We brought them here. We were gunna do a trade with some of the Spiridons, but soon as we reached the planet's atmosphere our systems went haywire and we crashed."

"The energy pulses. Right now this planet's got a magnetic field strong enough to completely destroy the circuitry of a landing ship. You didn't stand a chance." He looked at her for a moment. "How many of you are there?"

She nodded, slowly, "We started with sixteen. I think... I think I'm the only one left."

"I'm sorry." He said it like he meant it, and he did.

"Yeah." She said, softly. Then she shook her head, "Anyway. Enough about me. What about you, Captain. You're not a Spiridon, I can see you. So who are you?"

He paused, looking at her. She seemed to bite the inside of her lip, slightly uncomfortable, and he gave a small, vague smile. Then he shook his head again, "I have to get back to my friends."

"How many are you?"

"Just three." He shot her his best charming smile, "Now we're four."

She looked confused, "But... I don't even know where you're going."

"Does it matter?"

"I don't even know who you are."

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he said, smiling, "And you're Narla Garont." He gestured to the edge of the forest with a nod of his head, "Let's walk. Before we get ourselves eaten."

She shook her head, falling into pace with him automatically, "I'm ready for whatever this forest can throw at us."

Jack couldn't help but smile at the word 'us'. But he shook his head, "Well, here, darlin', it aint just the animals you gotta worry about." His eyes moved down, to the weapon in her holster, "Was is that pretty little thing you got there, anyway?"

She brushed her hand across the grip, adjusting its position in its holster, automatically, "It's an FDP sonic cannon, an emission gun. Adjusted to use different forms of radiation."

"Radiation..." he paused for a moment, "How... quaint."

Her sweet silver eyes narrowed, "It's better than whatever _you've_ got, _Captain_."

"What, this? This is a Webley mark four .38 revolver! Height of fashion for the British army during World War Two."

"Was I supposed to understand _any_ of that?"

"Not really, I guess." He glanced her over again. The first time he saw her his brain had been a little too busy to notice her attire, but now his eyes could admire her tight, corseted top without restraint. It was sleeveless, held up hope and prayers, a light blue to compliment her skin. Her trousers were short and cropped, and, again, tight against her skin, a dark black, almost like leather.

Though Jack Harkness had, of course, noticed how much skin she was showing quite some time ago, it suddenly hit him again for a different reason: "Shouldn't you be wearing a little more clothes... y'know, seeing as everything _in_ this damned place is pretty much fatal to the touch."

She shook her head, "My kind is immune to most poisons. Including all that are conceived of on this planet."

"Oh. So you could technically not wear any clothes at all, then?"

It really was so cute the way that that blush endlessly stained her cheeks. Jack decided it was probably the second most delicious blush he had ever seen. The first being Christopher Isherwood, of course.

"What are you staring at?"

His smile deepened, "Surely that's obvious?"

"Not to me it's not," she replied, firmly, "So what are you staring at."

"You."

"Well stop it."

He laughed, shaking his head. Without realising it, he thought about another woman who'd recently employed the same sort of fake-cool tone with him. He thought about that moment that couldn't have happened that far from here. He felt the knife in his hand and he tore through the massive root around her chest, and then the weight and warmth of her body as he caught her. The cuts all over her face and the thick red mark across her throat causing concern. The panting breaths, the low, weary groan and the slightly parted lips causing something completely different.

Those parted lips were meant to be kissed.

And then her tumbling out of his arms as she finally seemed to realise what she was doing, what she was letting _him_ do, falling to the floor, the transition of vague displeasure and shock into amusement an easy one.

He looked at Narla, and smiled, almost wistfully, "Y'know, you remind me of someone."

"Who."

"Oh, just someone I know. Human girl. Just as stubborn as you." He allowed himself another cocky laugh, "Though, of course, she doesn't blush every time I meet her eyes..."

His effort was rewarded by another flush of blood to the alien's cheeks, "I don't, I don't... _blush_."

"You're doin' it right now, love."

The observation only served to intensify the colour in her face, and he wondered what was getting to Narla more - the little endearment or the fact that he knew he was getting to her.

He frowned with something close to amused curiosity, "Have we met before? You just seem... really, _really_ familiar..." he moved closer, brushing a lock of shocking vermilion hair out of her face, "Though I think I'd remember such a striking view..."

She pulled back a little and he smirked as she glanced away, quickly, looking for something else to focus her attention on, "Captain, you and your friends, why are you here?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Yes, I am. Why are you here."

He smiled again at the girl's growing edginess, "You're so cute when you're embarrassed."

"Captain Harkness."

He sighed, playfully. Then he shook his head, "We're here for the power fluctuations. We want to find out what's causing them."

"The Spiridons don't know?"

"Nope. I don't think they're even aware they _have_ them."

"How can they not be aware, they have scanners, don't they?"

Jack kicked out at a plant near his foot, only moderately surprised when the thing hissed back at him, "Well. They kinda got a lot on their minds at the moment. Maybe they've just overlooked it."

"What d'you mean, got a lot on their minds? What's happening?"

Jack gave a small, wry smile, "Well. Where should I start..."

* * *

"Nothing. There's... _nothing_."

The Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel looked around her, frustrated.

Myra shook her head, "There's gotta be _some_thing," she said, firmly, "Your scanner and what I saw -"

"What _did_ you see, Hull." She asked, sharply.

"St Elmo's Fire, actually. Dunno what it's called on your planet -"

"_Slaptor_."

"Thanks, Doctor - but it's all over the place. But, when I saw it, it was concentrated on this hill. This one right here. The one we're standing on. _Here_. It _must_ be around here somewhere..."

"Hey, Myra!"

She glanced around, quickly, her eyes searching out his. The Doctor was standing still a meter or so away from her, smirking slightly.

She shook her head, "What?"

"Remember that time on Mbea?"

"_What_ time on Mbea?"

His smile grew. His shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and glanced down at the floor, meaningfully.

She followed her gaze, then glanced back up, "_What_. What _is_ it?"

He just stared at her. Smiling. She could see traces of the ninth doctor's smugness in his hazel eyes.

Frustration moved over her and she shook her head, "Doctor, what are you -"

Realisation hit abruptly. She looked down, moving her weight on her feet. She looked back up at him. Then she shook her head, "Okay, we're even."

His smile deepened and he dropped down to the floor, feeling out the grass with his hands. Myra joined him by his side, kneeling, and then laying down fully on the grass so she could feel it properly.

Katriel was staring at him, "What by _Karsa_ are you two doing?"

Myra glanced up, "Thinking, be quiet, would you?" she moved her eyes onto the Doctor, "How's your sonic doing?"

He buried in his pocket and pulled it out, flicking a switch and holding it down to the ground. The poor thing let out a few strangled whistles and then packed out completely.

Myra nodded, slowly, eyes fixed on the ground, "You got a spade in that jacket of yours?"

"Doubt it. _But_..." he got to his feet, quickly, looking around them, putting a hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes against the setting sun, "If I was an entrance to a secret underground base, where would I be..." He paused for a moment, and then grinned, and tore off down the other side of the hill, "Come on!"

Myra sighed.

"Hull?"

"Yeah?"

"Does he do this often?" Langton asked, still frowning after him.

"Oh, you have no idea..."


	20. Chapter 20: Five’s a Crowd

_Not of This World __chapter twenty: __**'Five's a Crowd'.**__ The Doctor's sudden protectiveness is driving Myra round the bend, and she finally realises just how alien aliens are._

_Disclaimer - I don't own any rights for Doctor Who_

* * *

**Chapter 20 - Five's a Crowd**

"Is it me or is it getting one hell of a lot colder."

"It's getting colder," Myra replied, easily, "This planet... it's sub-freezing at night." Her eyes moved over the alien's 'clothing', raising an eyebrow, "Which aint gunna help _you_. Here."

She pulled the bag off her back and rummaged through it, finally coming out with a jacket, which she passed to her. Katriel took it, "What about you?"

"I'm okay for now. Admaston's not exactly the Kalahari..."

"Over here!"

Myra moved swiftly, "What you got, Doctor?"

The Doctor turned to her, grinning, "A great big metal door." He turned again, letting them see the door, "I love great big metal doors, 'cause _great big metal doors _always lead into great big metal _hallways_, and what do great big metal hallways lead to?"

She hazarded a guess: "Great big metal rooms?"

"_Exactly_, great big metal rooms! And in great big metal rooms, there's always something very _very_ interesting."

"So what are we waiting for?"

There he hesitated, "Uh... well... there's the little problem of..."

"The door's locked, isn't it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah it is."

"And your sonic's still not working."

"Nope, no it isn't."

"Well. Why don't we let _Jane_ here have her turn?"

Katriel frowned, "Jane?"

"Inside joke. Go on then, off you go."

The alien paused for a moment. Then she shrugged, and, swiftly, yanked out her pistol. She aimed, and then pulled the trigger.

Heat seared across Myra's face and she reflexively took a sharp step back, "_Blimey_!"

She felt the Doctor do the same beside her, "_Whoa_!"

She put a hand to her cheek, and then winced as she felt the heat still echoing on her skin. She frowned, looking at the warrior, sceptically, "What _is_ that thing?!"

Katriel glanced down at her weapon, confused, "It's a sonic cannon. Emission gun."

"Emission gun? What's that in English?"

"English?"

She hesitated. Whoops. "I mean in... whatever language it is we're speaking."

"It's a radiation gun," the Doctor replied for her, surveying the weapon in her hand with distaste, "That thing's got more oomph than a hundred and sixty x-rays all in one second."

"Seriously, a radiation gun?"

"Yeah." He shot her a glance, "Not from Hamleys, sorry, though I think I preferred that one..."

"It's perfectly safe." The Banarye replied, almost reproachfully, holstering the weapon.

Myra rolled her eyes, still touching her cheek, "You'll excuse me, but I don't really think 'radiation gun' and 'perfectly safe' should go in the same sentence." She glanced down, "Especially not one with enough radiation to melt a small _hole_ through a _door_..."

"It worked, didn't it?"

She rolled her eyes again, "Come on..."

* * *

The 'secret underground base' consisted of, as the Doctor had predicted, a whole maze of great big metal hallways.

"We should split up." Katriel said, glancing around the many hallways.

"We should _not_." The Doctor replied, firmly.

"Y'know what, Doctor, for once, I agree with the warrior." He turned his ferocious eyes on her, and Myra shrugged, calmly, "I mean, come on, how are we gunna search this place otherwise?" he continued staring at her, and she sighed, "God, you're so possessive... Okay, let's compromise. There's four directions. Three of us. We each take a direction, and - because, as you've made so blindingly clear, I obviously can't handle myself -" she lowered her voice for a second, "patronising git," she pointed down the shortest hallway, "- I'll take _this_ one, the shortest, only got six doors. Then we can meet up back here, and tackle the biggest one together. How's that sound."

The Doctor looked at her for a very long time. She wondered whether he had taken her 'patronising git' comment to heart. Then he shook his head, "Fine." Then he pointed at her, "But if you're not back here in ten minutes, Myra, I'm coming after you."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I got it, Doctor. Whatever you say."

"I _mean_ it."

"_Okay_, I _get_ it..." she muttered another choice insult under her breath, and then turned to her corridor, "Right! See you guys in ten, then! You okay with that, Katriel?"

The woman nodded, stiffly, "Of course. Back here in ten. Let's just get this over with."

"And if that beepy-alarm-clock-thing of yours tells you anything, give us a shout, right?"

"Of course."

"And the same with you, Doctor, keep an eye out for Spiridons, would you?"

He nodded, taking Jack's time agency wrist strap and fiddling with a dial, "Righty-oh. I'll have a look at blocking that vortex manipulator again, _too_..." he frowned, "God knows how he managed to get that back online again... tricky little feller..." he paused for a moment, and then gave a bright smile, "Must've taken him _weeks_."

"Yeah yeah, we're all very impressed, Doc. Now let's get moving. This place aint getting any smaller."

* * *

Myra walked slowly through the hall. She'd picked open the first few doors to find computer rooms, filled with information that she had no idea how to access. Irritating, but nothing she could do about that. The next two rooms had been completely empty, and her frustration was beginning to build. She couldn't help but feel a little of that frustration settle on the Doctor. She knew very well that he was worried about her, concerned, but, hell, she'd had _boyfriends_ less overbearing than this...

Myra stopped in her tracks. She could hear something. Speaking. She could hear someone _speaking_. Her heart pounded in her chest.

_If that's the Doctor come to check on me, I'm gunna goddamned kill him..._

She opened her mouth, trying to force herself to call out his name. She couldn't. Her hand reached into her pocket, slowly, and pulled out the Swiss Army knife she had placed there earlier.

The voice came closer, and her grip on the blade tightened. It was a woman. The voice of a woman. She ducked back around the corner, trying to calm her breathing. God, if it was a Spiridon...

_Screw it. Just do it. __**Fast**__._

The thought didn't appeal to her. But maybe surprise was all she had. She flicked the blade out, slowly.

_On three. One. Two. __**Three**__._

She wheeled round the corner, knife out, and pinned the figure against the wall. The woman let out a low yelp, and her eyes flew up to her face.

* * *

Myra froze. Their eyes locked. There was a second of immobility. Then her panic fell in one swoop in her chest, and she backed off, giving a small, angry snarl, "What the _hell_, you damned near scared me to _death_! I thought I told you to go _that_ way!"

The Banarye looked at her for a moment, "Do I know you?"

Myra frowned, glancing at her, "You... _What_? What are you... what do you..." she stared into the silver eyes for a moment, and then shook her head, "Katriel, what are you _talking_ about."

"What, who... who's Katriel?" the voice sounded just as confused.

"_You're_ Katriel!"

Her eyebrows raised, looking genuinely surprised, "_Me_? _I'm_ not _Katriel_! Who _are_ you? I've never seen you before in my life! You're _insane_!"

"_I'm_ not insane, _you're_ insane!" she said, incredulously, "What are you talking about, you're _'not Katriel'_?"

"I'm _not Katriel_!" the alien insisted, "I've never even _heard_ of Katriel! Who _are_ you?"

"_Me_, who the hell are _you_?"

"Garont." She replied, shaking her head, almost sarcastically, "Narla. Narla Garont. Good evening."

Myra was completely at a loss, "What... but... but you're..." she stared at her for a long time, and then tilted her head back, slowly, realisation passing over her, "Oh. _Oh_. Of _course_." She paused, frowning at her, looking her over, "How many of you _are_ there?"

"What by _Karsa_ are you talking about?!" the Banarye said, incredulously, "Were you going to _stab_ me with that?"

She glanced down at the knife, still in her hand, "No! Of _course_ not! I just... I was just... I wasn't gunna..." she paused. Then she shook her head, pushing away the blade and shoving it consciously back into her pocket, "I... guess I should start from scratch. I'm... Myra Hull. You're... Narla Garont, right?"

"Yeah. Myra Hull. That's nice."

"Uh, thank you?"

"You're welcome. Now who the hell are you."

"I just, I just said."

"No," she corrected, firmly, "You said your _name_. Now who _are_ you."

"I'm a... Thal." She remembered, suddenly, "From Skaro. I came with the Doctor, he's just down here, and we're with a friend of yours."

"Katriel." She repeated, sceptically.

"Yeah."

"How d'you know she's a friend."

"'Cause, well... 'cause she looks like you?"

Narla stared at her for a moment, intently. Then she shook her head, putting a hand to her ear where something that looked like a phone headset, "We've got someone here. Yeah. Female, Thal. Yeah, Thal, it's not her, sorry."

"Who... who are you talking to?" Myra asked, almost timidly.

"A friend," she replied, without even looking at her. She took another stopwatch-y thing out of her pocket and glanced down at it, "We've got more lifeforms." Her eyes narrowed a bit, and she took out a pistol from her belt, "They're heading this way. Fast."

"They're my friends," she said, quickly, "Don't hurt them."

She glanced at her, "They're with you?"

"Yes." She cocked the weapon and Myra put a hand on her arm, "Don't hurt them, they're just, they're just coming to protect me, probably. They've got scanners too."

"Myra?"

She glanced at the direction the voice had come in, and then turned back to the girl, urgently, "Please, put the gun down, he's not gunna hurt you, I promise, just, please, put the gun down."

"_Myra_?"

The Banarye licked her lip, uncertainly, "Is he armed?"

"What?"

"_Is he armed_."

"No! No, he's not, please, just - Doctor!"

"_Myra_!" the Doctor skidded to a halt, relief clear on his face, and then he looked at Garont and frowned, puzzled, "Katriel?"

"Hull!"

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder, looking even more bemused, "_Katriel_?"

"Doctor."

Narla took a sharp step forwards, "_Langton_!"

Katriel's eyes widened, locking onto the other alien, "Garont!"

"This is like a really bad movie..." Myra muttered, rolling her eyes.

The second moved forwards again, taking the other's hands, "I thought... I thought I was the only survivor!"

"So did I. How are you, any injuries?"

"None. Lucky I guess. You?"

Langton shrugged, disinterestedly, "Nothing that time won't fix."

"So you know these people?"

"Know?" Katriel glanced at them and gave a small, lopsided smile, "Not really. But they're here for the energy readings." She turned to Myra, "Isn't that right."

Myra didn't reply. She was too busy looking the two over, completely confused. She knew the two looked alike. But, this close together, it was just creepy. The aliens both had that strange purple skin, both with the claws, the webbed hands, the silver eyes. Their wrists had identical markings, that strange, intricate tattoo, and both had off-red hair, long, the exact same length. They were the exact same height, the exact same build. Hell, they even were wearing the same _clothes_!

Katriel watched her confusion, frowning slightly, "What?"

"You're... the same."

"Yes. We are."

"_Exactly_ the same."

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder, "It's an identical race, Myra, all Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel are identical."

She glanced at him, "Why?"

He shrugged, "Why do all humans look different?"

"Because we're born from different cells, different eggs," she looked at them again, "Are they all born from the same cell?"

"Not... not really..." he hesitated for a moment, thinking, and then shook his head, "Believe me, it's complicated. You don't wanna know."

"Fine. I won't ask." She glanced back at the two again, "So what's..." she hesitated for a long time, considering who to point to, and then just shook her head, "_Narla_ doing here, then?"

"I survived the crash," Narla replied, slowly, "I looked for survivors and found none. But, Langton, I found another in the forest, a Captain; he said his name was -"

"_JACK_!"

* * *

Myra leapt at the figure just moving into the corridor, pulling him down into a bone-breaking hug, "You're _alive_!"

Jack laughed, "Well, I was the last time I checked."

She shook her head, ferociously, "What were you _thinking_?! You could have been _killed_!"

"I thought I told you, darling, _I can't die_."

"We'll see about that, you goddamned -"

He fastened a hand over her mouth, "Come on, sweetheart, temper temper. Now, Myra, doll, not like the whole tackled-on-an-alien-planet thing isn't a personal fantasy of mine, but d'you mind putting me down?" his eyes flickered down to check their proximity, "Though of course, it's completely up to you... Kinda reminds me of the _last_ time..."

She gave him a sharp slap, and backed off quickly before he could retaliate in a different way, "Cut it out." She glanced at the Banaryes behind him, "Anyway... seems you got over me quickly enough. Who's the new girl, _Captain_?"

"Oh, Myra, there's only you."

She rolled her eyes, trying to remain angry with him and failing quite miserably.

The Doctor stood with his back against the wall, raising an eyebrow, looking them over, interestedly, "_What_ did you say?"

Myra shook her head, "Oh, don't you start."

Jack laughed and moved forwards into the room. Then he stopped. His eyes moved to Narla. Then to Katriel. Then back again. He nodded, slowly, "Okay, now I'm confused."

"Hello, Captain." The one on the right gave a small wave.

He hesitated, "Narla?"

"Uh-huh."

"And..." he pointed at the other.

"Langton. Katriel."

"Katriel Langton..." he paused for a moment. Then he turned back to the Doctor, "Identical twins?"

The Doctor shook his head, "Identical _race_. And _don't_," he added, as soon as Jack opened his mouth, "Just don't."

"I never get to say hello to _any_one..." he muttered, and Myra laughed.

Katriel - or Narla, who knew - shook her head, "We have to keep going. Keep searching. We have to find what's causing the power fluctuations. Garont, you're still armed, right?"

Narla nodded, brushing her hand across the grip of her weapon, "Yep."

"You should see her go with that thing," Jack added, appreciatively, "She took out that great big monster thing with one shot."

The girl's face turned an interesting shade of indigo and she averted her eyes, "Uh... thanks."

"Fantastic," Myra muttered under her breath, "Another on the damned bandwagon... Wait, she killed that thing in the forest? What was it?"

"It was wildlife." The girl replied, apparently pulling herself together. She moved over to her and pulled out something that looked like a small metal block, pressing a button.

A hologram shot up, and it took everything Myra had not to flinch back, "What the hell's _that_?!"

"A Sendimin." Narla explained, calmly.

"A Senda-_what_?"

"Sendimin."

Myra shook her head, slowly. She'd never seen anything like it, not even in the many sci-fi shows she watched almost religiously. If she were feeling particularly 'Harry Potter', she'd say it looked like a mix of Fluffy and Aragog.

She shook her head, slowly, "How the hell did a creature like _that_ get _here_?"

The Doctor grinned, "I'll tell ya how, they _send_imin." Everyone stared at him. "Get it? Sendimin? Send-'im-in? No? Okay then."

Myra shook her head, "Doctor, shut up. Is it dead?"

"Yes. I've managed to kill three so far."

"Okay, so how many _are_ there?"

"Four. Just one missing."

"_Just one_..." she repeated, sceptically. She turned on Jack, "So I assume that's why you're bleeding, right?"

He glanced down at his arm, as if surprised, "I am?"

She sighed, "Yes. You are. Get here." She pulled a first aid pack out of her bag and proceeded to attack his injured arm with bandages and gauze.

"What are the Sendimin doing here?" she heard the Doctor ask behind her.

"We're trading with the Spiridons. We brought them here, but they escaped when our ship crashed."

"What use would anyone possibly have for _those_ things." Myra muttered, tying a bandage onto Jack's arm, ignoring his weak protests.

"Well, food, of course."

"They _eat_ those things? Gross..."

"Well, they make fine meat, apparently. Not our taste. We just breed them for their milk."

Myra closed her eyes for a second to rid herself of that frankly disgusting mental image, and, thankfully, the Doctor changed the subject: "Right. So, if you're finished playing doctors, Myra -" Myra quickly forced a hand over Jack's mouth to stop any comment he might add, "- maybe we ought to get searching for these energy readings."

"Wait a minute, just one thing..."

The Doctor turned back, "Yeah?"

One of the aliens frowned at him, "Jack said you were human."

"Yes? Well, she is, I'm not. I'm... well, I'm... complicated."

"But I thought you said you were Thals?"

He shook his head, "I... lied. I'm always lying, sorry about that."

"So why are you really here?"

"There's a disease," Jack said, quietly, "A disease that's killing the Spiridons here."

"A _disease_?"

"Yeah. We're here to find out what it is."

"What sort of disease?"

"It's... a long story. We'll tell you on the way."

The Doctor nodded, smiling, "So! Let's get moving!"

"Should we split up again?" Myra asked, maybe a little too quickly.

"No. Our corridors are finished. They were empty. We take the big one."

"Well, _that's_ a pity..." she muttered under her breath.

Unfortunately, it seemed she had underestimated the hearing of Time Lords: "Why, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, remarkably realistically, "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

He frowned at her for a second, looking back and forwards from her to the two aliens she was purposely avoiding looking at, "Myra, are you..." he paused, and then his eyes widened slightly, "Oh. _Oh_."

She shook her head, wearily, "Do you realise how annoying that is when you look at the situation for a few seconds and then, with no evidence whatsoever, come to a conclusion?"

"Bet I'm right though."

She sighed, "Yeah. Yeah, you probably are."

Jack looked from one to the other, "What's up?"

Myra hesitated. "I suffer from a... _small_ amount of geminiphobia." She admitted, grudgingly.

"Gemini-_what_?"

"Geminiphobia." The Doctor repeated, still sounding slightly surprised, "It's a fear of identical twins."

She grimaced, nodding at the two perfectly identical aliens, "Yeah, could you guys... not touch each other, I'm scared there's gunna be a paradox, or something... Yeah, I really need something to tell these guys apart, or I'm gunna go mental."

Jack frowned at her, interested, "You really have a phobia of identical twins?"

"Not a _phobia_, per se. I'm just... a little bit _edgy_ around them."

"Why?"

"Because..." she paused, trying to battle her vague unease into words, and then just shook her head, "Because the whole thing about humans is that each one is unique!"

"But they're _not_ humans!"

"Look, just... People shouldn't look identical! It's _wrong_!"

The Doctor shook his head, "You have some really odd phobias..."

"Yeah, did a twin bite you when you were a baby or something?"

"Funny." She said, sarcastically, "And I don't _know_ why, I just... don't like it."

"You don't like us because we're identical?" Narla - no, _Katriel_ (the one on the right, the one on the right...) - asked, frowning slightly.

But the other was giving a small, slightly wicked grin, "Now. _This_ could be _interesting_..."

"Don't even _dare_." Myra warned, narrowing her eyes slightly.

The girl laughed.

"Oh God, I'm gunna regret ever saying that, aren't I?"

"Yep."

A sigh. "I thought so."


	21. Chapter 21: Thinking it Through

_Not of This World __chapter twenty-one: __**'Thinking it Through'.**__ If the one thing the Doctor can do is talk, then the one thing Myra can do is argue. And Jack... Jack's just there to stir things up._

_Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who... or plenty of other stuff :)_

PS - I majorly suck for leaving this story for so long. Like, majorly. What is that, a month? God, I suck. The writing muses have not been particularly cooperative this month. Sorry about that.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 21 - Thinking it Through**

"Can you smell that?"

Myra glanced up, "What."

The Doctor was frowning, looking around him, "Taste it... something in the air... can you feel it?"

Katriel shook her head, "I don't feel anything."

"What is it, Doctor." She asked again.

He shook his head, and continued looking around. Then he bounded over to a door, running his hand over the metal, "Here. Right here." He leant towards it, and, to the surprise of almost everyone present, licked it, quickly. Then he nodded, decisively, "Yeah, that's it, there it is, right there, try that."

"No ta..." Myra muttered, rolling her eyes.

"What is it?" Jack asked frowning.

"It's like... Tinidazole. Like metal, like... ferrous Sulfate."

She raised an eyebrow, "Iron Sulfate?"

The Doctor glanced at her, smiling, "Yeah, how'd you know that?"

"Science A-Level. The IUPAC name is FeSO4."

"That's impressive."

"Thanks."

Jack shook his head, "Who remembers _IUPAC _names?"

"Someone who had nothing better to do than stare at the IUPAC chart on the wall. Now, Doctor, why are you surprised that you can taste iron on a metal door."

"Because it's not quite iron. Not your usual iron, anyways. Tastes different. Like... like it's not properly manufactured."

"Like blood." Narla said, shrugging.

"Almost. But we're getting close." He took a step back and nodded decisively at the door, "I think we should go this way."

Myra tried the door, "Locked." She pressed down a switch beside it and gave a small, ironic laugh as a screen popped up, "And, oh, isomorphic controls... Lovely."

"Is your sonic still busted?" Jack asked, glancing at him.

He nodded, "Yep. This... this is gunna take a while..."

"I could blast it?" the alien that was undoubtedly Katriel offered.

Myra shook her head, immediately, "Yeah, I think, I think that's _enough_ of your little radiation gun, to be honest..."

"Especially in a place like this," the Doctor agreed, "You don't wanna use that in here. Just give me some time, I can get it open."

Myra nodded, "While you do, why don't we have a chat about this disease." She glanced back at the two Banarye - slightly more relaxed around them now she had managed to differentiate between them by forcing Narla to tie back her viridian hair - nodding, "Brain pool, see what we've got."

Jack shook his head, "Well, from where _I'm_ standin', we got _nothing_."

"What sort of attitude is that?" she reproached, shaking her head, "We've got _plenty_, we're just not _seeing_ it right."

"Okay," Katriel said, firmly, "Why don't we start by you telling us... everything you know about it."

Narla nodded, "First off, how did it start?"

"Dunno." Jack replied, easily.

Myra shot him a glare, and then glanced back at the 'twins', "The Spiridons that caught me said it was something manufactured in a lab to only attack Spiridons."

"Well, how do we know that's even _possible_? Have they done tests? Has any other being _except_ a Spiridon come to this planet?"

"Except you, of course." Katriel said, narrowing her eyes.

"And you." She replied, just as pointedly.

Narla mediated: "We are immune to the planet's toxins, and therefore it would only make sense if were immune to this disease, whatever it is."

"If there was a risk they should have quarantined the planet. They should have blocked this place off, closed it down completely."

"Katriel, the Spiridons don't have the resources to close down a planet, they're barely out of the _dark_ ages."

Jack shook his head, "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Say that again."

Everyone paused for a second at the sudden interjection. Narla glanced at him, confused, "Say what again."

The Doctor waved a vague hand, turning from his hacking for a second, "Myra, what you said, about the disease, say it again."

She thought for a second, "The Spiridons that caught me said the disease was something manufactured in a lab to only attack Spiridons."

"And again?"

"They said... it was manufactured in a lab to only attack Spiridons."

"Manufactured..." he repeated, thoughtfully, "They thought it was manufactured..."

There was another pause, and then Myra shook her head, "And?"

He looked at her, "And what?"

"_Was_ it? Was it manufactured?"

He shrugged, defensively, "_I_ dunno, _do_ I? I was just thinking!"

She looked at him for a second, unbelieving. Then she shook her head, "_Urgh_! Doctor, you are _insufferable_! The least you can do is be a _consistent_ geek - the all-knowing-Time-Lord thing's annoying enough, but the _inconsistency_ of it is even _worse_..."

"Well, thanks, I do try."

She let out a few 'police academy' curses, and Jack winced, theatrically. She shot him a glare that told him firmly to keep his mouth shut, and then shook her head dismissively at the Doctor, "Just get back to the door, will you please."

He nodded at it, "Need an extra hand. D'you mind?"

She sighed, walking towards him, "What d'you need."

"As I said..." he continued pressing buttons for a moment, and then grabbed her wrist, pulling her forwards and placing her hand onto the blue, cold keypad. He shot her a grin, "I need an extra hand. Stay there, would you?"

Myra rolled her eyes, but stayed where she was, "You're hopeless... What is this supposed to do, exactly?"

"Something big long complicated and quite possibly Martian."

"Really?"

"Shh. Stay still."

She didn't move an inch, watching warily as he tapped buttons and flicked levers, hand still firmly on hers. She shifted a little, uncomfortably, trying to stay still as the now quite familiar skin brushed over hers. It still set the hairs on the back of her hand on end.

Finally, he let go, letting out a triumphant 'ha!', pulling away and grinning at her, "There! Sorted!"

She pulled her hand back, frowning at the opened keypad, "What d'ya do?"

"I replicated the residual imprints and then _triggered_ them using an isomeric transmutation."

She cocked an eyebrow.

He gave a lopsided grin, "Science A-Level?"

"Shut up."

"Children." Jack warned, smiling slightly, "Let's get back to the point, shall we?"

"Of course! Let's see what's inside!" he swung the door open to reveal... another door.

Katriel raised an eyebrow, "That was melodramatic..."

"How many doors do they _have_ in this place?" the Doctor asked, looking mildly bewildered.

Myra shook her head, "Okay, we're gunna have to split up. Me, Katriel and Narla will head out and see if we can find a pickable lock, Doctor, you take Jack and replicase his residing whatever-it-was on that there door, 'kay? C'mon, let's move."

"Hey."

She turned back, "Yeah?"

He paused a second, "Be careful."

The way he said it, he could have been saying 'pass me that fingerprint replicator, would you?'. But she could hear restraint in his voice. Maybe her annoyance had finally cut through. "I will." She replied, gently.

He gave a small smile. Then he shook it off, and turned to Jack, "Right! Hold still Jack, won't take a second..."

* * *

Jack watched the three women walk away with a practiced eye. Then he glanced back at the Doctor who was now seemingly attacking his hand with his defunct 'sonic' screwdriver, "So. Wanna talk about it?"

The Time Lord didn't spare him a glance, "About what?"

"Don't gimmie that. Myra."

"The last I heard... Myra's a 'she', not an 'it'."

"Not the way _you_ treat her."

This time he did look at him, looking surprised and a little indignant, "_What_?"

"C'mon. You're less possessive over _K9_ than her."

He raised his eyebrows, "I'm - I'm not... I'm not... I'm not _possessive_."

Jack smiled at the man's fumbling, "Ooh, hit a raw _nerve_ there, have I?"

He shook his head, releasing his eyes and turning back to the door lock again, "You... you are insane. You need help."

He nodded, noticing that he was punching in a code that he had already tried, "Probably. So tell me. What's your hit with her?"

"My hit - My _what_?"

"Deal. What's your deal with her." The man continued to ignore him, but, unfortunately for the both of them, Jack's curiosity was already trapped. He cocked his head to one side, looking at the alien whose attention was fixed oh-so-carefully on the door's locking mechanism, and moved towards him as best he could with his hand still pinned, "I dunno, do you... do you _like_ her?"

He glanced at him, "Like her?"

"Yeah. Like her." He paused for a moment, and then shook his head when the Doctor didn't reply, trying to bait him out slowly, "I mean, she's _bright_..."

No reaction. "Mhm."

"Interesting."

"Uh-huh."

"Brave."

"Course."

"Beautiful."

A hesitation? Perhaps not. "S'pose so."

"And she's fiery as hell, too."

He looked at the wall, "Yeah." He paused for a second, and then shook his head, returning to his work.

"So you do like her?"

"I... _admire_ her."

"_Admire_."

"She's... talented. Resourceful. For a human."

"For a human." Jack agreed, nodding, "But is that it?"

The Doctor was fumbling with the lock, failing to replicate the delicate manoeuvres needed to draw it out, "What d'ya mean?"

"I dunno, is she..." he looked at him for a long time, "Is she something special?"

He kept playing with the switch, nonchalantly, but Jack could've sworn he saw something flash through his deep eyes, "Why would she be special?"

"Well..." he leaned over and clicked the switch into place, deftly, "You tell me."

The alien looked at him for a very long time. Then he shook his head, closing down again, "No. She's nothing. She's just a human, she's nothing special. It's just, I, I just..." he turned from his work rocking back on his haunches for a moment, frowning at the floor, "I mean, she saved my life. _Lots_ of times, but... but that doesn't... I mean, it hasn't been that long since we actually _met_, and that, that was just an accident."

"Aw, c'mon, Doc, are any of things that happen to you _planned_?"

"It was a mistake. She was just there, and I thought she was something she wasn't, that's all it was. But she... she saved my life. She died to save me."

Jack frowned, "What d'ya mean?"

The Doctor didn't reply, continued staring intensely at the metal tiles. "She died to save me. But it was just, it was just something that happened, everything was going so fast, I doubt she'd even... even remember..." he fell quiet.

Jack looked at him. He knew the Doctor well. He wouldn't boast to say he knew him best, because, frankly, the Time Lord had been alive for centuries, and had had a great many friends and enemies in his time. But that look on his face... It was like pain, but a pain that he had long buried deep, only to surface once every full moon as a dark, gnawing regret that sucked in all those around him. It was pain and anger and grief, but somehow also... confusion. Like there was something the Time Lord didn't understand yet.

Jack had only seen that look once before.

"Doctor?"

He looked up at him, slowly. Then he shook his head, and nimbly forced the lock shut. It beeped for a few second, and then died, the diode fading to nothing. The Doctor straightened up and yanked it open, glancing inside. A cupboard. Jack would have laughed if it wasn't for his survival instincts firmly telling him this wasn't the time.

The Doctor nodded, shortly, "Storage. Let's go see how the others are doing."

* * *

Myra smacked her hand frustrated against the wall as the particularly persistent lock snapped yet another of her hairpins, "God _damn_ it!"

"That thing as hard as it looks?"

"Shut it, Narla."

"I'm Katriel."

"Shut it, Katriel."

"Nah, just kidding, I am Narla."

She let out a long, low sigh. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to calm herself. Then she opened them, determinedly trying again.

"Why have Spiridons got these old tumbler-whatever-locks, anyway?"

"Maybe they're part of the old foundations. This place has been here for millennia, who _knows_ who was living in it originally."

Myra tried not to think about the complete lack of difference in the aliens' voices. It just gave her a migraine and the building urge to tape one of their mouths shut. Instead she concentrated on the feel of the lock's tumblers on her makeshift pick, the way they sounded as they clicked into place.

"Do you think that maybe the original inhabitants have something to do with the infection?"

"If so, why would it only start up now? Doesn't make any sense."

"_None_ of it makes any sense."

"I'm sure it does, when seen objectively."

"How can you see a _virus __**objectively**_?"

"Infection."

* * *

Myra heard the aliens turn to her, confused, "Sorry?"

She stood, slowly, her eyes on the floor, "You said virus. But before you said infection. _I_ said infection."

"What of it?" Narla asked, frowning slightly.

"We usually call it a disease. That's what we usually call it, a _disease_. The Spiridons, though... they always called it an infection."

"Aren't they the same?"

She glanced at the girl, "No. A disease is any illness, any disorder. An _infection_... is a contagious disease. But, this infection... it's not contagious."

She frowned, "What did you say?"

"The disease. The infection. It's not contagious."

Katriel shook her head, "What are you talking about, of _course_ it's contagious, that's what 'infection' _means_."

"Exactly. That's what an infection _is_, a contagious disease. But not this one. This one isn't contagious."

"Well how d'ya know that?"

She shook her head, simply, "_I_ haven't got it. Neither have you, _or_ you. Jack hasn't caught it. The _Doctor_ didn't catch it, despite being left in a room full of diseased patients. None of us have caught it." She paused for a second, thinking about it, her heart fluttering slightly, "This infection... isn't an infection."

"But what does that mean?"

She paused for a long time. "I don't know. But I'm gunna find out."

"Whatever it is," Narla started, shaking her head, "The Doctor said the source was in this building."

"Yes. Shouldn't you be concentrating on getting that door open?"

Myra glanced up at her, "Hm?" then her eyes fell back on the lock, "Oh, I already opened it. While you guys were talking."

Katriel looked at her for a moment, sceptically, and then shook her head, derisively, "Humans."

Myra raised an eyebrow, "_Banaryes_."

"Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel." The younger corrected, seemingly automatically.

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever. Let's get going." Her hand moved onto the door and, without a pause, she yanked it open.

Myra's eyes moved up to the doorway, and shock struck hard. She stumbled back half a step, heart caught in her chest, her eyes wide, and, logical sense gone, succumbed to the first knee-jerk reaction that presented itself.

"_DOCTOR_!"


	22. Chapter 22: Old Friends

_Not of This World __chapter twenty-two: __**'Old Friends'.**_

"Every time you sound confident nowadays, something terrible seems to happen."  
_(Peri - 'Vengeance on Varos')_

Doctor Who © BBC

* * *

**Chapter 22 - Old Friends**

"No, _don't_ shoot, _**don't**_ shoot!"

"What... what are they."

"Just don't shoot. Shoot and you're dead, we're _all_ dead, you can't kill them, we'll all die."

"What _are_ they."

"But they're... they're not moving. They're not... They must be frozen. Cryogenically frozen. Like... But... how is that..."

"_Myra_,_ what __**are**__ they_."

"They're... they're Daleks."

* * *

"_Myra_?!"

Jack swung round the corner, shaking his head, "No dice, where the hell _is_ she?"

"I don't know, _Myra_? Myra!" the Doctor ran full pelt up a corridor only to find a choice of three different ways. He let out a sort of frustrated snarl and then shook his head, his breathing slightly rough from the run. He ran a distracted hand through his hair, ruffling it, glancing down either path, quickly, shaking his head, "C'mon, Myra, give me something. Give me something. Come _on_..."

"Myra?" the Captain shuddered to a halt beside him. He barely noticed. "She went somewhere this way, I swear."

"_Yes_, but _where_." There was no reason in being angry with Harkness, and he knew that. But he just couldn't help himself. "Where _is_ she. _Myra_?"

"Myra? Katriel? _Narla_!"

"_MYRA_!"

"Wait. Wait, did you hear that?"

He nodded, quickly. He spun around a few times, eyeing up the three corridors. Jack settled on the left, "This way."

He shook his head, "No. This way." He took off, barely hearing the man close on his heels.

* * *

Myra heard them coming. She turned slightly, keeping her eyes in front, backing away until she felt cold metal at her shoulders, "Doctor?"

"Myra?"

"_Doctor_?"

"_Myra_!"

"No! No, don't, don't, stay -"

Typically he ignored her and ran up to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and leaning down to her level, looking urgently into her eyes, "What's wrong, what happened."

"I -"

"What _happened_?"

She looked at him for a moment, her breathing still harsh. Then her eyes moved away. The Doctor's must have followed, because she felt his body jerk backwards, colliding with the wall, and Myra gave a reflexive yelp as he forced a hand quickly over her mouth. She glanced at him in a sort of indignant shock, raising her eyebrows. She raised her own hand and dragged his off her mouth, "They're _frozen_! They're frozen."

The Doctor didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on the creatures in front of him, and he was shaking his head in disbelief. "Daleks." He breathed, eyes wide with something that could have been fear.

She managed a nod. Myra thought that was perfectly eloquent of her considering the circumstances. Her own green eyes flickered to the scene in front of her. Daleks. Hundreds and hundreds of Daleks. Thousands of them. All standing in lines, like ranks, like an army. God, there were _thousands_ of them.

"But..." she paused, rallying herself, licking her lips, and then shook her head, "But I thought... I thought we were before the War. Before you came here. Thousands of years before."

"Yeah. I came here early 26th century. This can't be later than the twelve hundreds."

"Then how... how are they _here_?"

The Doctor shook his head. He was looking at the ranks of Dalek soldiers with a disgust and pain and anger that burned through her very soul. "The Daleks must have already put them there. They must been here for thousands and thousands of years, buried under the ground. They've been planning this for... for _years_. Decades, _centuries_." He looked at her, abruptly, "Myra. They've planning this for _millennia_."

Katriel shook her head, still looking uneasily at the metal shells, "But Daleks, what's a Dalek, what are they."

"They're killing machines," Jack answered, softly, "Made to kill. Destroy. Murder."

She frowned, "These things are _soldiers_?"

"Believe me, _Langton_, these things are worse than any creature the _Banarye_ have ever _conquered_."

If the anger in the Doctor's voice had shaken her, she didn't show it: "What do you mean."

"I mean that they're not _born_ to kill. They're _created_ to kill. Hate, and anger, and rage...." he paused for a moment, glaring at the nearest metal hull, "That's all they are. That and death." He rounded on Myra again, "They haven't moved? Not an inch?"

She shook her head, "Not even the..." she waved a shaky hand at them, uneasily, "the eye stalk. Not even the eye stalk."

"Okay. Okay, they're frozen. Daleks don't sleep, they have to be frozen." His eyes moved around the room they were in, long and thin, more a slightly wide corridor, "The Daleks are here for a reason. I mean here, in this particular place. They're guarding something."

"They're deactivated." Katriel pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"But still a threat. A silent threat, maybe. But people still flinch from a dead snake. Come on."

Myra knew he would be surprised when she yanked out of his grip, but her eyes weren't on his face to check, "Like hell."

"What?"

She shook her head. Her breathing was tight in her chest. She felt like she wasn't getting enough air. She felt like she was drowning. "I'm not going anywhere near those things. Doctor. I'm not going anywhere _near_ those things."

"Myra -"

She shook her head again, quickly, "No. I've seen what they can do. And I've seen what they _have_ done." She managed to wrench her eyes up to his, "Doctor, I know what they've done to you, I'm not going anywhere near them. Please."

"Myra." He took hold of her shoulders again, looking at her, "Trust me."

She stared at him for a long time.

"Breathe." He said, gently.

She paused. Then she exhaled her held breath, slowly. The band around her chest started loosening, her heart slowing. She kept her eyes on him.

The slightest smile moved over his lips, "That's right. You're safe Myra, just breathe. That's it. I'll look after you."

"Look _after_ me?" she managed, shakily. She paused, and then brushed his hands off of her. "Like I need _any_one to look _after_ me."

His lopsided smile grew, "There's the Myra I know."

Jack was beside her, hand on her arm, concernedly, "Myra, are you -"

"I'm fine." She moved her eyes back to the tall metal salt cellars. What had he called them? Space dustbins. That was it. Useless. Cold. Dead.

She drew in another breath. Then she nodded, determinedly, and started walking, "Shall we?"

* * *

Three sets of footsteps fell into place behind her, with one next to her. Myra didn't look at the man next to her, instead continuing down the corridor, staying as far to the right away from the things as possible, "So the Daleks were here even before you and Jo were sent here."

The Doctor nodded, slowly, "Yeah. The Thals found out first, of course. Well, maybe the Time Lords already knew, but they didn't... Anyway, the Thals sent a few strike teams down to Spiridon to combat the Daleks."

"Brave."

"But futile. The time of the Dalek invasion was, let's say, twenty-four fifty, _early_ twenty-four fifty. But they must have snuck the advance guard in beforehand. _Long_ beforehand."

Myra nodded, firmly, keeping herself walking, "Why."

"Why?"

"Why now. Why so far in advance."

He looked around them, "These tunnels must have taken some time to build. And, I suppose they'd have wanted some troops there for when they arrived. Left here, buried, forgotten, _no_-one would have seen them coming." He paused for a moment, and then looked at her, "It must have been quick. Despite their invisibility. It must have been _very_ quick. The Daleks subjugated them easily, slaughtering over three-quarters of the population and then setting the rest as slaves." He stopped in his place, suddenly.

Myra's eyes locked onto his. Her heart was fluttering again, but her brain had not yet deciphered why. "Doctor?" she asked, cautiously. Jack and the two soldiers were talking behind her, but she blocked them out, deftly, focussing on him, "_Doctor_?"

"Slaves." He repeated, his voice barely a whisper, "Slaves, the Spiridons were their slaves."

"Doctor, what's wrong." She said, urgently.

"Wait. Wait wait wait. Slaves. They were slaves."

"Yes. The Spiridons were the Daleks' slaves."

"And what do slaves do?"

Myra shook her head, "I, I don't know."

"Come on, Myra, _you're_ the expert, you know my life better than _I_ do, come on. What do slaves do."

"I don't -"

"Then _think_."

She winced at his words. They weren't sharp, weren't angry. But they were an order. "I... I guess... whatever the master _tells_ them to do."

"Exactly. _Whatever the master __**tells**__ them to do_..."

"Doctor, what the hell is goin' on." Jack asked, firmly.

He ignored him, attention fixed solely on her, "Think about it, Myra. This infection. If not cured it will kill all of them."

"So we gotta cure it."

"But think about it. Relationship between a master and slave. What is it?"

"I don't know, uh... _control_... anger... hate... Not a _happy_ one, for _sure_."

"No, then why do they keep them? The slaves? Why do they keep slaves?"

"Because..." Myra was struggling. She couldn't keep on his line of thought, couldn't figure out what answer he wanted, and, worse, still couldn't shake that horrible feeling inside her chest, the feeling that something was about to go very wrong. "Because they need them."

"Because they _rely_ on them."

"I suppose so. They rely on them. Yeah. They rely on them."

"They rely on them."

"Doctor," she said, quietly, "Where are you going with this."

He looked at her, his eyes serious, "You know where."

"But I'm hoping I'm wrong. So tell me."

The Doctor turned his back for a moment. Myra waited, her heart throbbing. Then he turned back, "The Daleks are the masters. The Spiridons their slaves. They rely on each other. The Spiridons... if they die now... the Daleks won't have any slaves. They won't be able to continue with the experiment." He paused a beat, looking at her, "They all have to die."

* * *

"No." Jack said, sharply.

"_No_," Narla implored, shaking her head, taking half a step towards them, "You _can't_, we came here to _help_ these people, you _can't_ let them die!"

Myra shook her head and moved sharply forwards, taking his arm, "Doctor. Doctor, listen to me." She waited until his eyes moved to hers, and then shook her head again, "You can't. You can't do this. You can't take responsibility over life and death." She paused, looking at him, "Having this knowledge, it's not... It's not fair. You can't. You're... you're not..." she hesitated, and then tightened her grip slightly, trying again: "You're _not God_."

"But if this happens," the Doctor repeated, taking her arm in turn, almost imploringly, "If this happens the Thals will never come here. Maro, Vaber, Marat, they'll all survive."

"And you'll have never met them." She said, gently, "The Time Lords will never send you here, none of this will have happened. And there'll be an army of more than ten thousand frozen Daleks under the ground." She looked at him, but he turned his eyes down, looking away. "Do you want to leave them there? You think they're _safe_ there? Untouched by time, what if they survive the War there. What if, millions of years in the future, this planet starts to heat up. And they start to thaw out. And find themselves back in Mutter's Spiral, with a few hundred planets full of humans just a leap away."

The Doctor's eyes were still on the floor. Jack and the two aliens were standing a little way back, staring at him, at her. She couldn't care less. She couldn't concentrate on them now.

That look was on his face again. That pain. That grief. Suppressed and forced away, but still there. If he could save them all, he would.

But he couldn't. And, seeing him like this... it tore a hole through her heart.

But she knew what she had to say.

"Doctor," she repeated, softly, "What are you trying to do here. Are you trying to save the Spiridons or kill the Daleks, 'cause they are on _very_ different roads." He didn't even respond. She licked her lip, unconsciously, "Look at me." No movement. Anger and pain welled up inside of her, and she took hold of his arms, turning him to face her, "_Look_ at me!"

The raw emotion in her voice must have got through to him. He looked up, reluctantly, catching her eyes.

"Doctor, I'm sorry. But... but you know this is how it's got to be."

Jack took a hesitant, half-step forwards, "Doc, we've gotta keep going. We have to. You know these things are still here when you get here, and you know that's the way it's gotta stay."

The Doctor kept his eyes on Myra. Myra looked back at him. Then he leant closer to her, "You know my life better than anyone."

"Not all of it."

"But most."

"Nowhere near, Doctor."

"But you know why, don't you. You know why I want to save them."

_Because you want another perfect day. Like that day back in World War Two, like the day in the London Blitz. Like that day with the Vashta Nerada. The day everybody lived. But you can't. I'm sorry. You can't._

"Yes. I know." She paused for a long time, and then shook her head, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "No. No, don't worry about it." He paused for a moment, looking at the floor. Then he glanced up at her, "Do you know about the curse of the Time Lords, Myra?"

She frowned, "The curse of the Time Lords, yeah, the... the longevity. The regeneration."

"No. That's not it."

"Then... what is?"

"The curse of the Time Lords... is seeing something in front of you... knowing what's about to happen... and not being able to do a thing to stop it. The Laws of Time."

"And you're their guardian." She completed, softly.

"Their _only_ guardian."

Myra hesitated, "Listen. I know you. And I know you wouldn't do that. Would you. You wouldn't."

He raised an eyebrow, "Wouldn't I?"

"No. And, even if you _would_ you couldn't." she drew in a breath, "Because... because I wouldn't let you. Understood?"

"Don't get involved in this, Myra."

"_No_. I won't let you. I will _not_ let you sacrifice one for the other." She let her hands slide from his arms, "This is how the world works, Doctor. The whole damned universe, this is how it works. You know it best. It's not fair."

"So why do we keep on going? People like you and me."

"Me?"

"Police officer, Myra Hull. You've probably seen your fair share of injustices. So why do we keep on going."

She hesitated again, "We... we keep going... _because_ the universe isn't fair. _Because_ it's unjust. _Because_ people die. We keep going so that, sometimes... we can... alleviate that a little. But not this time. I'm sorry."

"Why not this time."

"You can't win them all."

"But why not?"

"Doctor." She said, quietly. He glanced up at her, still with that look on his face. She paused for a moment, and then shook her head, "Krillitanes." She reminded, softly.

Jack frowned, "Krillitanes? What are you talking about?"

But the Doctor had understood. His eyes were locked on hers, and she couldn't look away. An eternity seemed to pass.

Then he nodded, slowly, "We need to get moving."

She hesitated. Then she nodded back, "Yeah. We do."


	23. Chapter 23: The Curse of the Time Lords

_Not of This World __chapter twenty-three: __**'The Curse of the Time Lords'.**_

"That's how I see the universe. Every waking second, I can see what is, what was... what could be, what must not. That's the burden of the Time Lords, Donna. And I'm the only one left." _(S04E02)_

_Disclaimer - no © :(_

* * *

**Chapter 23 - The Curse of the Time Lords**

Myra kept her eyes on the Doctor just as assiduously as he was avoiding hers. She knew he wasn't happy. And that was an understatement. She understood fully how he felt right now. But there wasn't a damned thing either of them could do about it. And he knew that. He _had_ to know that.

"I don't understand."

Myra glanced over her shoulder, "What, Narla."

"Well just... if they're such monsters, killers... why don't you just..." the girl hesitated, and then shook her head, gesturing to the Daleks beside them, "I mean, they're in cyro sleep, why don't you just...?"

"Kill them?" she completed, maybe a little too harshly.

"Well... yeah."

Myra paused. She glanced at the Doctor. He was still avoiding her eyes. She sighed, and turned back to the alien, "That's not how it works. You can't... you can't kill a whole species, no matter what their crimes."

"But you said -"

"Face to face, it's _different_," she replied, firmly, "But... not like this. It's... I guess... it's not _fair_."

"And these things deserve fairness, do they?" Katriel asked, pointedly. Myra didn't answer, and she shook her head, turning on the Doctor, "You said you were a warrior."

"Leave him alone." She ordered, quietly. She paused a second, and then shook her head, "Just because he once was a soldier doesn't mean he _wanted_ to be. And it sure as hell doesn't mean he wants to be _reminded_ of it every three seconds, understood?

Katriel looked at her, "Your compassion will be the end of you."

"Then that is a good way die."

"What are you talking about?"

Myra sighed, "You wouldn't understand. I'm sorry. Just... we can't kill them. Not like this. It's just... not what we do. Okay?

"_We_?"

Myra glanced at the Doctor, for a moment surprised into silence. Then she nodded, "Yeah. _We_. You got a problem with that?"

He didn't reply. She raised her eyebrows. What the hell was going on in that head of his? She didn't think she could tell anymore. Maybe she'd never known in the _first_ place.

Katriel shook her head, "What if we find out that whatever's causing this infection is a person, a living person. Would you kill them?"

She hesitated, "I... I don't know. I don't know, Katriel. I'd like to think we wouldn't need to."

"But what if you _had_ to." She persisted.

Myra licked her lips, nervously. She glanced at the Doctor. He was so much better at this sort of talk than she was. But, no. He had gone back to his silence, back to his brooding.

"I don't know," she repeated, slowly, "I just don't know. But... I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we."

She glanced at Jack, looking for confirmation. His eyes were on the Doctor's back. He hadn't said anything in a long time, either.

She shook her head, firmly, "We're going to get through this. What we need is a little adrenaline boost. Come on. Let's get this thing sorted. _Now_."

* * *

Half an hour later and they were out of the Dalek freezing unit, which seemed to automatically put everyone in much higher spirits. Myra could still feel the slightest tension, but when the Doctor got to work hacking a particularly difficult door lock, he seemed to get back into his stride.

"Captain, there was a computer a corridor back, get on that, will you, I need to stick with this beastie."

"Yes sir."

"Myra, Narla, help him with that, will you? Katriel, get over here, I need a hand."

"Sure thing, Doctor."

Myra followed Jack back round the corridor until they came across the monitor he had been talking about, "Right, what have we got?"

The Captain shook his head and didn't pause, instead moving over to the thing and attempting to wrench it off the wall, "_Well_... I _think_ this is a mark _six_ Kelburn design, but I can't tell until right about..." he gave the casing a persistent yank and the whole thing came away, leaving a small, shiny silver pad about the size of a postcard. Jack grinned, "..._now_. Yup, Kelburn six, so we need -"

"A multiphased synto-replicator."

Jack frowned for a second, and looked at the person who had so easily broken his cocky stride. Narla glanced over the pad and nodded, decisively, "Yeah, that should do it. Along with a qualified computer hacker, of course."

There was a long pause. "Okay," he admitted, in what sounded to Myra like an odd mix of begrudging admiration, "But where we gunna get a replicator, they're hardly every day _shopping_ list items, _are_ they?"

She shrugged, "Maybe your friend's sonic device will cover it - providing the power source still runs when it's non-operational, of course."

He gave her a surprised smile, "That's right." The surprise quickly faded into something that made Myra roll her eyes as he chucked the alien playfully on the chin, "Good work there, _Narla Garont_."

The Banarye of the Parasitic Rigel flushed - something that, on a person with violet skin, she found quite fascinating - and quickly glanced at the ground, muttering something unintelligible.

Myra sighed, wearily, "Fantastic. Look, Narla, run along and ask the Doctor if we can nab his screwdriver, Jack'll keep working from here, off you go."

Narla nodded, quickly, and the turned to leave.

"The other way."

She flushed again, and turned, walking right.

Myra sighed again, and shook her head, "Why is it that whenever attraction is involved the person's IQ goes down twenty points? I mean, seriously, it's like you gain a crush and... lose your _brain_..."

"Oh, I dunno. She seems pretty capable to me." Jack said, easily.

"She's an outer space _Barbie_."

He raised his eyebrows, amused, "Is that a spark of _jealousy_ I hear?"

She rolled her eyes, "You wish."

"No no no, I'm pretty certain of these things. Trust me, you're jealous."

Myra shook her head and moved away from him, "Whatever. I'm gunna go see if the Doc needs my help."

"Oh, I'm sure he will..." He muttered.

She turned back, frowning, "What was that?"

He looked at her for a second, and then shook his head, "Nothing."

She took a step back towards him, "No, tell me. What are you talking about?"

"I just said I'm sure he'll need your help."

"Why." She asked, firmly.

He gave her a sceptical look, "Have you been _awake_ for the last twelve hours, hon?"

She shook her head, "Don't cut that with me. You know damned well what I'm asking." He had the grace to look the smallest bit put-out. But that wasn't enough for her. Her brain had latched onto something in his voice like a damned pit-bull, and she was not about to let go now.

"You and the Doctor," she began, innocently, "What did you talk about? When us three went to find a door we could pick, before the freezing unit, what did you two talk about?"

Jack looked down at the floor. Myra found it interesting the view most men had of women. They had so little understanding of them that just giving a vague, open question at the right time in the right situation led most men to think that they were psychic. Unfortunately for them, the 'mystical power' that women held was something that they would never be able to ascertain - the ability to listen.

And, hell. It wasn't the _woman's_ fault that men were terrible liars.

"Nothin'." He lied, shrugging.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying!"

"Yes, yes you are. Now cut it out."

Jack looked at her for a long time. Then he glanced back at the computer, "Tell me something. What happened on Mbea?"

"What happened on Mbea?" she repeated, sceptically, "That's a lot of conversation time, Jack."

"Anything specific?"

"Specific? What do you mean?"

His hesitations were starting to drive her mad. "Well... anything including the Doctor, for instance."

"The Doctor was the _reason_ I went to Mbea, Jack." She studied him for a second, "Jack, please. Tell me what this is about. What did he say?"

"He said..." he paused again, and then shook his head, "He said you saved his life."

Myra frowned, "Come again?" He just looked at her, and she shook her head, "What... what are you talking about? I didn't... I swear I didn't..." she thought for a moment. Saved his life! Nuts. The Doctor spent his time on Mbea running around after _her_, not the other way round.

Wait a second...

Flashes of memory were all she could really remember from her time down in the catacombs. The Marks had settled that for her. She kept getting flashes of things that happened to someone who wasn't quite her, and she could never quite figure out whose point of view she was seeing her memories from. Sometimes, when she wasn't concentrating, she found herself thinking in _many_ view points.

Myra pressed a finger down onto her temple, wincing. It hurt her head to think that way. It hurt her head to think about the Marks. It wasn't until after all the other marks had faded that she had discovered she knew what they had been doing. Of course, they were, technically, _her_. But that didn't mean she didn't look back on certain memories and think 'was that me?'

She tried to force herself to remember saving the Doctor's life. It was a struggle. She looked back at Jack again, and shook her head, "No. I can't have."

Jack paused. Then he shook his head, "He said... he said... you _died_ for him."

_Died_ for him?

Oh God. Of course. Of _course_. She could remember now. Not in full focus, it was like watching television through a dodgy signal, adjusting the antennae to cause mostly static with a few clear pictures shoved in for luck, but she could remember enough. She could remember running full-pelt down those catacombs, out of breath, a stitch ramming through her side, her heart hammering in her head. She had to push faster, the TARDIS had landed her as close as it could, but she was still too far away. She might not make it.

The image changed. Merged. Now she wasn't alone. Now she was with the Doctor. And she was running, running towards the girl she thought was Madeleine, little Maddie, chained to the wall by her wrist.

"_What possible threat could a little girl cause. Maddie, it's okay, I'm here now."  
_"_Myra, it's a trap."  
_"_I __**don't**__... __**care**__."_

And she was back to running solo again, her breaths so audible in the silent caves she was almost afraid he'd hear her coming, almost afraid that he'd react before she did, get there before she could reach them.

"_Sweetie, it's okay. I'm here."  
_"_Myra?"  
_"_Yes, it's me, sweetie. It's okay. It's okay, everything's gunna be okay."_

Running. And seeing. Running towards her whilst... _being_ her. Moving towards Maddie.

"_How you holdin' up, hon?"  
_"_Mummy?"_

Oh God. Oh God, no. _No_. _No_, don't do it. Don't do it.

"_It's __**Myra**__, Myra's here, don't worry, baby."_

She moved towards her, reflexively, holding out her hand.

"_**No**__!"_

And as the Doctor lurched forwards, so did she, forcing him back out the way as he threw her aside into the rock, and 'Maddie's' grip didn't get Myra, or the Doctor.

It got her.

Myra opened her eyes. Except... that _wasn't_ her. Who was that? Mark... four? No. Three. That had been Mark Three. Myra 3.0.

She moved a few steps towards Jack and took him by the arm, firmly, leaning towards him, "That wasn't me. Do you hear me? That... that wasn't me."

He looked at her, "I don't -"

"_No_," she interrupted, shaking her head, "You _don't_ understand. And I'm sorry. But that's how it's gotta stay." She paused for a moment, eyes locked on his. Then she broke his gaze, looking at the floor, "Excuse me."

She turned and left without another word. It was time the Doctor and her had a little talk.

* * *

Jack watched her leave, hesitantly. God, he hoped she wasn't going to confront him. That would be very very bad. After the conversation they had had, after that look on his face...

Jack had been thinking hard. He hadn't recognised that look before, could only place it down to the emotions the Doctor had been feeling at the time. But now he remembered. He remembered _exactly_ where he'd seen that look before.

"_The female and the TARDIS will perish together. Observe. The last child of Gallifrey is __**powerless**__."  
_"_Please. I'm begging you, I'll do __**anything**__. Put __**me**__ in her place. You can do __**any**__thing to me, I don't care, just __**get her out of there**__!"_

His face. The way his anger and fear faded into just pain. Buried pain.

"_The TARDIS has been destroyed. Now, tell me, Doctor... what do you feel? Anger? Sorrow? Despair?"  
_"_Yeah."_

Sorrow and despair. He was ever so good at anger. But sorrow and despair were the ones that really got him. Crippled him. He sometimes didn't understand how the Doctor could continue after all that he had lost. Perhaps that was just him.

Jack turned back to the computer. There was a lot of work to be done. And he might as well get started now.

* * *

"Doctor, I've gotta talk to you."

"In a minute, 'cause _this_ is _wrong_."

Myra hesitated, and then shook her head, wearily, "What... what are you _talking_ about."

"Well, come on, surely you've _noticed_ it, right? C'mon, think about it."

"Think about _what_?"

"Okay, I'll give you a clue." The Doctor nodded at the door, his old, glittering smile back in place, "This lock. What's wrong with it."

She sighed again, and then resigned herself to the knowledge that she'd get nowhere anyway whilst he was in this mood. She glanced over the lock for a moment and then shook her head, "I don't know."

"Come on, _look_ at it!"

Katriel leaned over his shoulder, looking it over, "There's something wrong with it?"

"_Yes_!" he glanced back at her, "Myra?"

He seemed so eager for her to get it right, as he always was. He wanted someone to prove even the slightest bit as intelligent as he was. Unfortunately, though she had her bright moments, Myra hardly considered herself to be anywhere _near_ his par. "I... I don't get it. What's wrong, tell me."

"Here. Look. It's a touchpad. Isomorphic controls, remember?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So... who made this place?"

"The Da-" she stopped in her place, realisation hitting her hard, "_Oh_. Oh my God..."

"What's wrong?" Katriel persisted, raising an eyebrow.

Myra looked at her, shaking her head, "The Daleks don't _use_ touch. They don't _have_ touch." She turned her eyes back to the isomorphic controls, "So they can't have _possibly_ made these tunnels."

"And if _they_ didn't make them... who _did_?" the Doctor added.

"The Spiridons?" she asked, glancing at him.

He looked at her for a moment. "Maybe." He didn't sound convinced, but before she could question him again, he had moved on, looking over the control pad with interest: "But definitely food for thought, though, don't you think? And you know what _else_ is food for thought?"

He bounded back, abruptly, with Katriel twitching and Myra merely sidestepping neatly out his way. He started sprinting back down the corridor they had just gone through, passing a bewildered Jack and neatly snatching the radiation pistol out of Narla's belt.

"_Hey_!"

He ran straight back into the Dalek freezing unit, Myra hot in his heels, and then levelled the gun at the nearest creature's dome.

"_Doctor_!"

"_No_!"

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

Myra recoiled back as the familiar heat spread from the strange weapon, her hand automatically going up to guard her eyes. She waited until the heat had stopped, and continued touching the side of her face that had been exposed. She shook her head, slowly, "D'you mind _not_ doing that, I think I'm fully radded-up for the time being..."

"Myra."

"No. No, Doctor."

"Look."

"_No_." She didn't want to. She didn't want to look inside and see what that thing had done to the creature inside. She didn't want to see. "What... what's wrong with you." She managed, shaking her head, turning her back, "I thought -"

"Myra, trust me. _Look_."

She hesitated. Then, slowly, she turned back round. The Doctor stood expectantly beside the newly cracked-open shell of a Dalek. She shuddered despite herself, and then licked her lips, nervously. She took an uneasy step forwards, and he nodded, encouragingly. She moved forwards. And then looked.

"Oh... oh my God."

"What is it?" Jack had caught them up, and was now moving swiftly towards her. He caught what she was looking at and his eyes went wide. He muttered a swearword under his breath. Myra just shook her head again. Then she looked back up at the Doctor, "They're... _empty_."

He nodded, "Yep."

"Just... empty shells. No creature inside."

"I know."

"So they're just... just _metal_?" Narla asked, hesitantly, looking at the empty carcass of steel, "No, no... _Daleks_, nothing inside?"

The Doctor nodded again, "Yeah. They're battle armour. Waiting for the soldiers."

Jack shook his head, "So the Daleks... they aren't actually _here_."

"They've just left their preparations." Myra said, quietly. She hesitated, and then looked up again, "How... how did you know?"

The Doctor shook his head, slowly, "Guessed. To be honest. Plus it's nowhere near cold enough in here for cryogenic freezing. There's nothing living inside here." He paused for a moment, looking at her. "So. What d'you think."

She glanced up at him, "About what."

"Well. About... about what we were talking about. About what we said."

"About what we said?" she thought for a moment. Then she nodded, slowly, realisation passing over her. She looked back at the empty Daleks, the battle armour.

"_The Daleks are the masters. The Spiridons their slaves. They rely on each other. The Spiridons...__ if they die now... the Daleks won't have any slaves. They won't be able to continue with the experiment. They all have to die."_

He could do it. He could do it without letting the Spiridons die. But Jack had been right, surely. These things were here when he and Jo first set foot on this planet. Surely they had to leave them. Surely they had to stay where they were.

The Doctor seemed to catch what she was thinking: "It wouldn't stop it. It wouldn't save the Thals. But... but maybe it would delay it. So less people die. At the very least I can put them _back_ a few decades. What d'ya think?"

"_Doctor. What are you trying to do here. Are you trying to save the Spiridons or kill the Daleks, 'cause they are on __**very**__ different roads."_

Myra looked at him, "You're asking _me_?"

"Yeah. What d'ya think?"

She looked at him for a long time. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face. "Do it."


	24. Chapter 24: Memory Clicks

AN: I know. You don't even need to say it. Yes, I've come back from the dead. My muses have, anyway. So, hello. Surprise. Boo. Et cetera...

_Not of This World __chapter twenty-four: __**'Memory Clicks'.**__ Pyromaniac-tendencies aside, there's always room for a good explosion. However, the Doctor has to learn to be very, very careful of his aim. And for Myra, self-confessed obsessive-compulsive, memory can be a very strange thing..._

Doctor Who © BBC

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Chapter 24 - Memory Clicks

"So as soon as we get out we set the thing to blow, yeah?"

The Doctor shook his head, still battling with the computer Jack had abandoned long ago, "Yeah. It's just a simple terminal, so when I set it to overload I'm gunna have to program it in to all the other ones as well, put 'em on the clock, give us a time of, ooh... five minutes?"

"Not long enough." Myra replied, firmly.

Jack nodded, "Yeah, I mean, I know you like to cut it thin, Doc, but that's pushing it a little."

"Okay, _ten_ minutes. Ten minutes, that's fine."

"I don't see why we can't just remotely activate it."

"The Spiridons don't have the technology for a remote activation, it has to be manual."

"Even so, we've still got our unfinished business, remember?"

The Doctor nodded, "Vari. He's safe from the ice, but not from the rest of his kind, he's officially a traitor now."

"Doctor -"

"I'm gunna get him out, Myra, and the best way to _do_ that is to prove we're not a threat."

"Okay, I'll run with that - but _how_?"

He looked at her, "The infection. We cure the infection. I know it's something to do with here."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just..." he shook his head again, and then glanced at her, "I know it." He tapped his forehead, quickly, "Up here. I know it."

"Okay. I trust you." She looked around her for a moment, "So. The Daleks. It will destroy them all?"

He shot her a grin, "Every single one of them."

She echoed the smile, "Fantastic."

"And us with it," Katriel pointed out, her eyes narrowed, "If we don't get a damned move on."

The Doctor shot a glance at Myra and rolled his eyes, "Yes, ma'am..."

He continued tapping away at the keypad, and she moved forwards, "What are you looking for?"

"Anything. _Everything._"

"How precise..."

"_Specifically_... data on this disease and how it started." A small jingling bell rang, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow, "Ooh. _Ooh_. Now _this_ is interesting..."

Myra took a step forwards, looking at the screen over his shoulder, but the binary code meant nothing to her, "What. What's interesting."

"The first victim. Of the infection."

"Disease."

"Okay, yeah, sure, infection, disease, virus, plague, what_ever_. It's got details. Of the first occurrence."

"And?" she asked, persistently, "Hit me. What's it say."

He glanced at her, "You're not gunna like it."

She shook her head, smiling, wryly, "Ooh, unlikely, I'd say. I'm feelin' sort of good about this. So hit me."

"The first Spiridon... he came... _here_." He glanced around him, shaking his head, "See, told you. I _knew_ this place had something to do with it..."

"But what did he _do_, what actually _happened_? Does it say?"

He shook his head again, "No. Nothing. They found him here, above the ground, unconscious. They took him in." The Doctor frowned, "Examination showed _physical wounds_? Cuts, grazes?" he shook his head, nonplussed, "Well, _that's_ not right... Hold on, just... hang on a second... I've gotta make sense of this data..."

"You said there was blood on the wall." Narla reminded.

"No, no, it wasn't _blood_, it was something _else_, something I can't quite put my finger on..."

Jack sighed, "Iron Sulphate, but that's hardly the rarest metal in the world, is it? It could be _anything_."

"What are they?"

* * *

The Doctor glanced at her, quickly, and then followed her gaze to the roof, "Pipes."

"Pipes." Myra repeated, slowly. "Pipes for _what_?"

He shrugged, "Heat, food, water, who knows."

"Why would you need food or water in a place with no inhabitants?"

"Then maybe it's electricity. Or maybe ice, for the cooling units. Why d'you ask?"

She didn't reply. Just stared at them. Then she shook her head, "They're _everywhere_. They had them back in that _other_ building, too."

"Must be power, then." Jack replied, fairly, "What _else_ could it be?"

Myra paused for a second. "I don't know." There was a moment of silence, and then she wrenched her eyes away, focussing on Jack, "The Daleks... to build this place, what would they have used?"

Katriel shook her head, "But I thought you said the Daleks didn't -"

"Shut up." She interrupted, calmly, "Either way. Whoever built this place, what would they have used."

The Captain shook his head, "Uhh, drills. High-power drills to clear the way. The soil isn't exactly easy to get through."

"And that'd need a lot of power, right?"

"Yes. A _lot_ of power."

"What would they have used? I mean, evil, megalomaniac monsters would hardly have used solar panels, would they?"

"But the Daleks didn't -"

Myra didn't let the alien break her stride: "Shut up. Let's just, for the benefit of the doubt, say they _did_ make this place. They'd need, what, a, uh... an _accelerator_ of some sort? Like a... well _I_ don't know, what sort of thing would they need?"

Narla shook her head, "Are you still so sure the Daleks _didn't_ make this place?"

"Yes." She replied, decisively, "Definitely."

"So it was the Spiridons, then."

"No. No, they didn't make it either."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked, frowning.

"Think it through. If you're thinking that the _Spiridons_ made this place, then they barely have _knowledge_ of the stuff that they'd need to build a place on this scale. How long did they say it took them to make those tunnels? Hundreds of years for the whole thing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, _and_?"

"Well, _this_ place hasn't taken hundreds of years, _has_ it?" she gestured at the walls around them, "Look around you. It's all the same. All the same quality. All the same state of repair."

"And that's why you think whoever it was used an accelerator."

"Yes. And that's _way_ beyond Spiridon tech. Even by the level they're at now."

"Is it beyond _Dalek_ tech?" Katriel asked, quickly.

Myra hesitated, "I don't know. I don't _think_ so, but I don't - I don't know what... _level_ they're at."

"What d'you mean?"

She thought for a second about how to explain it, "Well. The Daleks _I_ knew could levitate up stairways and move _planets_ across the _universe_. Bullets melted in the air before even reaching them, and they were _far_ more intelligent than any other sentient being I can think of." There was a short, echoing silence. Then she shook her head, "But these Daleks are different. _These_ Daleks can be tricked by a human in a Dalek shell, and you can defeat them by pushing them into a damned _swamp_. They're not _fully evolved_, shall we say."

"Fully evolved?" the warrior repeated, sceptically, "They're _machines_."

"They're not. They're more than that. They're... _creatures_. Creatures in metal shells. They calculate. And they kill, but they're most definitely not machines. They hate. And they bleed."

"And they're the least of our problems."

* * *

Myra's head snapped round, "What's happened?"

"The Spiridons," the Doctor replied, grimly, "They've tracked us down. They've found the door."

Katriel stiffened, "But we're going to blow this place to _Elderbet_, they'll all _die_."

Jack moved swiftly to his side, looking at the monitor over his shoulder, "Can you block them?"

"Seeing as we liquidised the lock to the front door, no, not really."

"How about _after_ then?"

"Yeah, working on it."

As the others started working themselves into a panic, constantly talking over each other, Myra withdrew back into her head. Something they had said... the words they had used... something so familiar...

_What would they have used? I mean, evil, megalomaniac monsters would hardly have used solar panels, would they?_

Power... electricity... the wires, running over their heads... pipes... connecting rooms... connecting _buildings_... what was it he said...

"_**Nothing**__ can __interfere with my screwdriver, almost __nothing__. Certain signals, powerful rays, and a few types of radiation."_

Her memory continued ticking away. There was something in this she was not seeing. Something was not registering. There was something she was not clicking into place. She wasn't making the connection.

The sonic not working. The power. The St Elmo's Fire. _Something here is creating one hell of a lot of electricity, using one __hell__ of a lot of power._

But _what_.

"_So. What are the symptoms."  
_"_In itself? Rotting flesh. Not skin, flesh, the flesh underneath. There were no actual external wounds that I could see."_

Her memory for voices had always been good. The sonic. The power. The Fire. The illness. The infection - no, _not_ an infection. The _disease_. Not contagious. Something not contagious, but flowing easily amongst a small, tight group, how could it _do_ that.

"_You said one was the disease and one was the symptom. If Saint Elmo's Fire is the disease, how can the infection be a symptom of that? 'Cause an infection can't cause high levels of electricity, __**can**__ it, it can't be the other way round. So which one is the starting point?"  
_"_I lied."  
_"_You mean you were wrong."  
_"_They're both symptoms. Both symptoms of something else."  
_"_Of... of __**what**__?"  
_"_I don't know."_

He didn't know. He didn't recognise it. Why, he was a _doctor_, he'd seen all the illnesses that had ever existed. But he didn't recognise it.

"_Or maybe it's something impossibly __**simple**__. __Maybe you've just overlooked it. Something basic, something elemental."_

So simple it was overlooked. The Fire. The Fire she saw on the hills, on _these_ hills. The whole room, buzzing with electricity, with _power_.

"_It's a radiation gun. That thing's got more oomph than a hundred and sixty x-rays all in one second."  
_"_Seriously, a radiation gun?"  
_"_Yeah. Not from Hamleys, sorry, though I think I preferred that one..."  
_"_It's perfectly safe."  
_"_You'll excuse me, but I don't really think 'radiation gun' and 'perfectly safe' should go in the same sentence. Especially not one with enough radiation to melt a small __**hole**__ through a __**door**__..."_

Radiation guns. Power. Electricity. The building, higher technology, not created by the Daleks.

"_**Nothing**__ can __interfere with my screwdriver, almost __nothing__. Certain signals, powerful rays, and a few types of radiation."_

Radiation.

Myra turned round on her heel, swiftly, "Doctor!"

He shook his head, giving a low growl, still attacking the computer systems, "Not now."

She tried again: "Doctor, it's important!"

"So is this, Myra, sorry, I'm really really busy."

"But I know what the infection is!"

He froze. Then he turned to her, hacking forgotten. "What are you talking about."

"I know." She repeated, earnestly, "I know what the infection is."

"_What_. What _is_ it?"

"It's not an infection. It's not a disease."

"Then what _is_ it." He repeated, persistently.

She paused for a moment, looking at him, "It's _radiation poisoning_."


	25. Chapter 25: Best Laid Plans

_Not of This World __chapter twenty-five: __**'Best Laid Plans'.**_

"So, providing we don't burn up on re-entry and aren't suffocated on the way down, we'll probably be smashed to a pulp when we land."  
"Exactly. Sarah, you've put your finger on the one tiny flaw in our plan."  
"_Our_ plan? It's _your_ plan!"  
_(Sarah & the Doctor - 'The Android Invasion')_

_Disclaimer - I do not own Doctor Who_

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Chapter 25 - Best Laid Plans

"Radiation poisoning." The Doctor repeated, sceptically, cocking an eyebrow at her, "_Radiation poisoning_."

"Yeah." She replied, evenly, eyes locked on his, "Radiation poisoning."

There was a long silence.

"Radiation poisoning." He said again. Then he shook his head, his eyes moving down to the ground. "Of course." He whispered, shaking his head, "Of _course_, how could I have not figured that out?"

"Something elemental and basic." She reminded, softly, "St Elmo's Fire from power. Plasma created by power, and what power are they using here?"

"Radiation. They _must_ have been." He glanced at her, quickly, "But there's no _way_ they could have harnessed that on their own."

"Exactly. There's more." Myra turned to Katriel, seriously. "_You_."

The warrior girl frowned, confused, "What?"

"Listen carefully and answer in sentences of no more than four words." She gave her a second to understand how serious she was, and then continued: "You were trading with the Spiridons. How long for."

She shook her head, thinking about it, "About fifteen Donjon cycles. Why -"

"Donjon cycles. That'd be months, right?"

The Doctor nodded, "Right."

"Fifteen months. Quite some time. What did you trade?"

She hesitated. "Computers. Technology."

"And?" the woman didn't reply. Myra shook her head, "You said the Spiridons ate Sendimin. And, to _eat_ them, they must have had a way to _kill_ them." She kept the alien's eyes, firmly, "You traded your weapons, didn't you. Your emission guns. The Spiridons have radiation guns, don't they."

"I told you, the guns are perfectly safe."

"That's more than four words, answer the question."

There was a long pause. "Yes. They have."

Jack drew in a long hiss of breath.

Myra ignored him, shaking her head, "But, to trade weapons like that, you've gotta have some sort of sanctioning, right? Your law wouldn't just let you trade dangerous weapons." She glanced at the Doctor, "There's gotta be _some_ sort of legislation against it, right?"

"Mm. Anglatian law." The Doctor offered, his eyes fixed on the aliens, "The intergalactic rules for trading of weaponry. Article one, for no reason should weapons be used as barter with a neutral, unaffiliated vector for their assistance in war. Article two, both parties must be properly and thoroughly trained on the use of the selected weapon."

"Did you follow that article, Katriel?"

The Banarye shook her head, impatiently, "Look, you can't possibly -"

"_Yes or no_, did you follow that article."

This pause lasted even longer than the first. Then Narla took half a step forwards, "No. No we didn't."

Katriel snapped her head round to her comrade, "Garont, don't -"

"Langton, I am not speaking to you." Myra interrupted, somewhat harshly. She looked back at the other, the one with even the slightest amount of guilt, the one with a heart, and shook her head, slowly, "You made these tunnels, didn't you, Narla. You made them."

The girl shook her head, "I don't -"

"You came _straight towards_ this place. You knew it was here."

"We had scanners that -"

"No. You came straight here because you _knew_ this was here. Because the Daleks never made these tunnels and neither did the Spiridons. _You_ did. Didn't you."

The girl hesitated. Then she sighed, wearily, "Yes. Yes, we made them."

"_What_?" the Captain said, incredulously, "Why the hell didn't you _tell_ us?"

"Shut up, Jack. You gave them guns, yes? You gave them the radiation guns. And how do you _charge_ these guns. How do you reload them."

"They... they run off radiation." She began, her voice shaking slightly, "There are small charge-up points all over their little underground city, we placed them in there. And... they're all supplied by one main hub."

"Here." Myra completed, softly, "This is the main hub. The main chamber. Somewhere in here is enough radiation to last a sun six lifetimes."

"We made it as safe as we could." Katriel cut in, coldly, "We kept the hub away from them, we made sure none of them knew where it was."

"But someone _did_ find it, _didn't_ they." She looked at the Doctor, who was still staring silently at her, the burden of this realisation chilling him to the bone. "One Spiridon. The _first_ Spiridon. The first Spiridon to come down with this so-called 'virus'."

"Your plans were flawed," he said, quietly, "The pipes send radiation flowing through the building, but the pressure wasn't measured right. The design was rushed. It wasn't all accounted for."

"Dead snakes?" Myra asked, hoping she wasn't going to be right. But he nodded, gravelly.

"What... what do you mean?" Narla whispered, her violet skin paling slightly.

"The first Spiridon that came here shot at a Dalek and missed." She explained, slowly, "He hit a pipe, and it ruptured. He didn't notice, he probably... he probably just ran. It's not as if he had a Geiger counter on him. But from that second the radiation was burning him from the inside out."

"No." Katriel interrupted, immediately, "That's not possible. The computer would have sealed it off, we made sure -"

"It did. It must have, or we would be poisoned too. But it sealed it off a second too late. And, with a pipe missing, I'm guessing the pressure in your main hub went too high. It's been pressing out radiation through those charge-up points of yours for weeks now. That's why the warriors went down first." She shook her head, moving her eyes to the floor, unable to hold Narla's gaze, "They were using the charge-up points the most."

"Oh Karsa." The girl whispered, shaking her head, "It was _us_. All along, it was _us_."

Myra didn't have the heart to reply. Jack's face was cold, his eyes locked on the girl. Even the Doctor stayed silent.

But the moment couldn't last for long.

The computer beeped from behind them, and the Doctor snapped his head round to it, swinging back to action in that way that he did, "They're through the second door. It's only a matter of time before they get into the main block."

Jack shook his head, "If they're in there when that bomb goes off they're all dead."

"Then we better make sure they're _not_." Myra said, firmly. She looked at the Doctor, meeting his eyes, "We've gotta lure them away."

"We need a plan." The Captain replied, automatically looking towards the resident Time Lord, "Doctor?"

The Doctor paused for a moment. Then he sprung back to life, "Nah, why don't we just improvise! After all, you know what they say about plans!"

"_The best-laid plans of mice and men_..." Myra quoted, dutifully.

"_Go oft awry._"

She nodded, "Robert Burns."

He nodded, fervently, "_Hell_ of a man. Bit of a drinker. And a bit of a... well, y'know, but, hell, find me a Scot that isn't. _But_ - back to the point. Now we know what this disease _is_, we can cure it." He leaned forwards, addressing them both, "If we get to the main hold we can seal off the generator and then bring this whole tunnel system down on top of it. Stop the leak."

"I can help with that."

* * *

The three looked at the speaker. Katriel kept their eyes, daring them to disagree, "I made this system. I know it off by heart. I can help."

Myra looked at the Doctor. He looked at the Banarye. "You want to help?"

"You sound surprised." She replied, coolly.

"Well, yeah, I guess I am." he said, sarcastically, "You kept this from us all this time, why."

She sighed, testily, "We'd be caught. We broke Anglatian law. We'd be executed."

"I needed to know this." He said, coldly, "And I needed to know it twenty minutes ago when we first met. You've had plenty of opportunity." He held her there for a moment, and then glanced back at the computer, "Now we'll be lucky if I can stop this before the radiation kills everyone in this sector."

"Then let me help," she repeated, shaking her head, "You _need_ my help, Doctor. I can shut this thing down before it kills again. Let me."

The Doctor looked at her for a long time. Then he shook his head, turning back to the computer, "Don't get in my way."

Katriel nodded, slowly, "Fine."

"Doctor, we need to get Vari safe," Myra said, shaking her head, "And the best way to do that would be to approach the Spiridons and tell them everything."

"Everything?" Jack repeated, shooting a small glance at the aliens next to him.

Myra paused for a moment. "We have to," she replied, softly, "It's the only way."

"I agree," Narla said, firmly, "It has to be done. I handled the face-to-face dealings with the Spiridons; I could help negotiate a compromise."

"Then we need to split up."

The Doctor nodded, finally leaving the monitor and spinning round to face them, "Agreed, right, so, Katriel, Myra, you come with me to the main hold, Jack -"

"No, Doctor." Myra interrupted, firmly, "You and Katriel go figure out this radiation leak, me, Jack and Narla will go sort out a deal with the Spiridons."

He shook his head, immediately, "No."

She sighed, testily, "Doctor, we don't have time for this."

"No, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Doctor. I'm with Jack, and I'm with Narla. I'll be safe."

"You're going straight back to the people who tried to kill you, no, I won't let you."

At this she raised an eyebrow, "You won't _let_ me? Doctor, get your butt over here." She grabbed him by the shoulder, dragging him away from the others despite his protests.

She moved far enough away to be out of earshot, and then gave him a somewhat sharp shove on the shoulder, "What is your problem?"

He shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do, you know perfectly well, don't do that. Why are you being so weird?"

He gave a small attempt at a smile, "Well, c'mon, Myra, give me some slack - I am me, aren't I?"

She shoved him again, "_Don't_ play this off as a joke or I will hurt you." She gave him a moment to settle down, start taking this conversation seriously. She watched as he trained his hazel eyes on hers, sincerely. Then she shook her head, looking him over, "Why are you being so... _protective_ over me?"

He shook his head again, "I... I'm not."

"Yes, yes you are." She looked at him, "Why can't you just tell me? Don't you trust me?"

"Of _course_ I do." He replied, immediately.

"Then what is it?"

He paused for a long time, just looking at her. Then he moved his eyes away, turning away from her a little, shaking his head, "I said I'd protect you. That I'd look after you."

So that's what this was about. She shook her head, "And you _have_." She reassured.

"You almost _died_."

"But I didn't." she replied, softly, "Because of you. You saved me."

"I _left_ you."

"Doctor -"

He cut her off: "No. Myra, I made a promise that I would look after you." He looked away again, running his teeth over his bottom lip, an unusual gesture for him that immediately caught her attention, "I've..." he broke off again. He shook his head, his eyes now firmly planted on the floor, "I've only broken a promise like that once before."

Myra frowned, "With who?"

He didn't reply. His eyes were dark, cut-off. There was nothing in those eyes except grief.

"Doctor." She said, quietly. "Why me?"

His eyes snapped up to hers, quickly, "Why _not_ you?"

"Doctor." She said again, locking eyes with him. He just looked at her. She sighed, "Doctor, you have a thousand different companions you could pick from. And you chose me. You remember that question I asked you? Back on Earth?" she gave a small, wry smile, "Back in my kitchen?"

"_But what about you. How are you coping."  
_"_Do you know what happened."  
_"_Yes."  
_"_How do you think I'm coping."  
_"_Not very well, seeing as you're here. Why __**are**__ you here, Doctor."  
_"_Truthfully? I don't know."  
_"_**I **__do. And I think __**you**__ do, too."_

"I've been thinking about it. And I don't. I _don't_ know why you're here. I thought I did, but..." she looked at him for a moment. Then she sighed again, "Jack... told me. He told me what you talked about."

He nodded, hesitantly, "Yeah. I figured. But not all of it, though."

"No. Just enough to perk my attention." She glanced down at the floor, "Doctor. About Mbea."

"You saved my life. You died to save me."

"That... that wasn't _me_."

"Yes it was." He said, gently, "Yes it was, Myra."

She shook her head, desperately, "But it _couldn't_ have been me." She paused for a moment, then shook her head again, slowly, "I'm still here."

"And you were there too." He looked at her. "Myra... why don't you believe it was you?"

She looked at him for a moment, licking her lips, unconsciously, "You know as well as I do that I'm not proud of what I did on Mbea."

"What you did on Mbea?" he repeated, sceptically, "You saved the _galaxy_, Myra!"

"By killing. I started it, and then things just... escalated." She paused for a long time. Then she turned her back, "It was my fault."

There was a second's silence. Then a hand fell on her shoulder, "Myra."

She paused. Then turned to him.

The Doctor was incredibly close, having closed the gap in a second. His charcoaled hazel eyes locked onto hers, unmoving, completely seriously.

"Myra." He said again.

She just stared at him. His eyes were so intense. She couldn't look away, even if she wanted to. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she couldn't breathe.

He leaned even further towards her, until his forehead brushed against hers. He closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them again. "Trust me."

She looked at him. Then she shook her head. "Trust _me_."

He didn't reply.

She gave a low sigh. Suddenly, she was very, very tired. "Doctor. We don't have time for this. I'm no use to you with the main hold, I know _nothing_ about that thing. You need Katriel, because she does. I know my way around the Spiridon's place, as does Jack, and Narla has experience with them. We're needed there." She looked at him, then shook her head, "Use our strengths, Doctor."

He looked at her for a long time, intently. Then he pulled back, abruptly, and her skin felt cold. He turned his back for a second, giving a small, frustrated sigh. She saw him run a hand through his hair, thinking intently. Then he gave a low growl and spun back, "Alright. _Alright_! I trust you."

"Thank you." She took his hand, quickly, and started leading them back, "Now let's get a move on."

* * *

Jack cocked an eyebrow as the two came back in, "Drama over?"

Myra shot him a look, "More or less." She moved further into the room, leaning down on the desk, eyes moving over the three, "Here's what's gunna happen. Katriel, you go with the Doctor to the Main Hold. Shut down the reactor, close off all those access points. Jack, Narla, you two are coming with me to the Spiridons."

"And that's..." the Captain's eyes lingered momentarily on the Doctor, and then moved back to hers, "_agreed_, is it?"

"Yes." She replied, immediately, not breaking his gaze.

The Doctor moved towards them, quickly, "Right, now, we haven't got long 'til the Spiridon's break through that door - Narla, Katriel, what we got, another exit?"

"There's a corridor north that'll bring us right underneath the Spiridon enclave," Narla replied, quickly, "We could take that, at least it'll give us the element of surprise."

"Good, and we've all got motion sensors and trackers, yes?"

"Yep."

"Affirmative."

"Okay, so that's the Spiridons dealt with," Myra said, nodding, quickly grabbing her bag and slinging it onto the table, rifling inside for a moment, "Doctor, you got a mobile?

The Doctor gave a half-shrug, reaching into his inside pocket, "Funnily enough..."

He passed her a small black phone, and she glanced at it before shooting him a sceptical look, "Samsung? Really?"

"Just shut it and type the number in."

"Alright, alright..." she started tapping in her number, going moderately slowly as she had minor doubts about two of the digits, "Y'know, you don't have a mobile for series _five_... I wonder what happens to it?"

"Oh, don't, I get through these things quicker than LEDs for the sonic."

She glanced up at him, "Sorry, _what_?"

"Seriously, fires, explosions, water, lost it down the back of the sofa, radiation, ice, acid, animals, _humans_ - once I got _pickpocketed_ in _Madrid_."

Jack shrugged, "Hasn't _every_one?"

Myra shook her head, handing him the phone back, "There. All in. I'm under 'Myra'. Why do you have Buckingham Palace on your speed- never mind. D'ya mind giving mine a bit of a vamp?" she tapped the mobile against her hand, giving it a distasteful glance, "Damn thing's stuck on Télécom."

"Télécom?"

"My signal provider seems to run by 'if at first you don't succeed, give up trying and tell the owner you're in France'. Does that a lot. Would ya mind?"

"Sure. Pass 'im here." Barely-useable sonic at the ready, the Doctor immediately popped out the battery, "Ooh, like _you_ can talk, _LG_..."

"What's wrong with LGs? Oh, whatever, shut up." She pushed a headset into his hand, firmly, "Here. Hand's free set."

"Because we're not gunna be facing enough radiation as it _is_, you've gotta give me take-away cancer..."

She rolled her eyes, "If you could die because of radiation that weak, Doctor, I'm sure you would have died many many years ago. Now quit your complaining. It's bluetooth. Should work." She let her eyes trace the ceiling again, "Unless your Samsung's too crappy to have that installed, that is..."

"When you guys are finished talking 'Phone and Consumer', could we get back to saving a planet?" Jack said, pointedly.

Myra grinned, "Right. Of course." She shot the Doctor a wry smile, "Saving the planet, as always."

He winked, "Just like old times."

The Captain rolled his eyes, "'Old times' coupled with new dangers... you guys are like walking time bombs, I tell ya..."

"Captain?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut it."


	26. Chapter 26: For Old Times' Sake

Hi. I'm Vayluh Arwen's muse. Sorry I haven't been around much lately, but I'm easily distracted by shiny objects. And university work. Listen, I can't promise to stick around for good, but I hereby promise to at least _try_ to help VArwen out until the end of this story. She says she's not abandoning it, and that she's very very cross with me and my absence. So sorry about that, and let's get on with the show :)

_Not of This World __chapter twenty-six: __**'For Old Times' Sake'.**__ For Myra and the others it's time to have a chat with some old friends, and the Doctor has a lot of work to do. But time limits are there for a reason, and there is more at stake here than Myra yet knows. With Spiridons on their door and a nuclear reactor about to go sky-high, the group are going to have to move hard and fast._

_Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who... but I should :)_

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* * *

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**Chapter 26 - For Old Times' Sake**

Myra slung her bag over her shoulder, "C'mon, we've gotta get a move on."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Yes ma'am."

She shot him a look, and then Narla, who was trying and failing to hide a smile. She sighed, wearily. Why had she agreed to this? Hell, let alone _agreed_, she was the one who had come _up_ with the idea!

"So all these tunnels... your friend's gunna bring them all down?"

"Yep," she replied, easily, "The Daleks will have to start again. Not all of the Spiridons saved... but some. Some is better than none."

"Of course." The alien hesitated a moment, and then seemed to find she couldn't hold it in any longer, "Hull?"

"Myra. Yes?"

"You and the Doctor..."

She waited for her to finish the sentence. When she still hadn't after ten long seconds, she glanced at her, not stopping her pace, "Me and the Doctor what?"

"What are you?"

This time she fully looked at her, slightly amused, "What? I'm _human_."

"No, not like _that_. What are you _together_?"

She shook her head, "I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

"Hull."

"_Myra_."

Narla gave a frustrated sigh, "_Myra_, then. Are all humans this good at evading the subject?"

"Nope, that's just me."

She sighed again. Myra kept her eyes on the cave floor. The walk had been a mirror image of their entrance into the Spiridons' lair, starting with the sculptured, walled corridors and moving into the rough, unsculptured rock.

"Are you going to answer my question, or is staring at rock a more interesting pastime for you?"

Jack chuckled. She shot him a glare. He stopped. She looked back at Narla again. "_What_ question?"

"What _is_ he to you?"

She shrugged, casually, minding her head as she did so, "He's a guy who saves lives. Hence 'Doctor'."

"Yeah, but to _you_?"

She glanced at her, "You think he hasn't saved my life too? It is as embarrassing as hell, yes, but there have been occasions when my own incredible wit and intelligence just doesn't cut it, you know."

"Sarcasm, very interesting."

"_Sarcasm_, nope, it's actually _arrogance_."

"Arrogance, not a chance. That's most definitely not you."

"How would you know what is 'me'? You don't even _know_ _me_."

"I've known you long enough to realise you are, _again_, diverting the question."

Abruptly, Myra stopped, turning round to the girl and putting both hands on her shoulder, "Right, okay, listen here and listen good. I don't do questions when we're running for our lives, apart from when they're very very very _very_ relevant. The only person I let mercilessly interrogate me is the Doctor, and that's only because he's so very _good_ at it. He's put in the time."

"Damn right." Jack agreed, fervently.

"Now, if you would _please_, this is _really_ not the time for all this." She let go, paused, and then shook her head, continuing, "Let's concentrate on the task at hand, shall we?"

There was a long silence. Then the girl spoke again: "You sound like him."

Myra sighed, closing her eyes for a second. "Sound like who."

"Like the Doctor. You sound like him, have you even noticed?"

She paused for a moment, thinking.

"_You even __**look**__like him.  
"_"_How d'you mean? I s'pose I do, yeah."  
_"_You've changed so much."  
_"_For the better."  
_"_I suppose."_

Rose. Little Rose Tyler. She had gotten herself so easily swept up into this world. Into _his_ world. Leaving her friends, her family, her _life_ behind her. So captivated that even on another _galaxy_, a _parallel world_, she still wouldn't stop fighting to be at his side. Fighting to find him.

"_I'll just keep on travelling."  
_"_And you'll keep on changing. And in forty years time, fifty, there'll be this woman - this strange woman... walking through the marketplace on some planet a billion miles from Earth. But she's not Rose Tyler. Not anymore. She's not even __**human**__."_

Not even human... Could that happen? Could time travel change you? _Turn_ you? Into something... something that you never even thought could exist?

And, anyway... did it even _matter_?

No. No, it didn't matter. This wasn't her world. Wasn't her _universe_. Rose Tyler wasn't even a person. She was a character. A fairy tale. Fabricated. Billie Piper. Freema Agyeman. Catherine Tate. John Barrowman.

David Tennant.

"Myra?" the girl asked, hesitantly, "Myra, are you alright?"

She paused for a long time. Then she looked at her, "No," she said, firmly, "_No_. I don't sound like him. I _don't_."

Jack frowned at her, "What's wrong?"

"I... I keep forgetting that this isn't real." She paused again, and then shook her head, continuing up the path at a faster pace, "I can't let myself do that."

She caught the unease that flittered over the Captain's face. But the alien just looked confused, "What do you mean, not real? Of _course_ it's real."

"It's not to me. Now. Please. We have to get moving." Her green eyes flickered over the faces either side of her, and then she returned them once again to the rocky floor, "Time won't wait."

* * *

Distress was palpable in the air. Anger. Confusion. Fear. Noise was everywhere. People hurrying about. Almost like panic, but with a far more brutal side to it. Readying themselves for battle.

A place in such a state of turmoil is easy to move through, he found. It is easy to remain unnoticed when everyone is at high alert. Silence was not the key. Confidence was. It was not a matter of agility, or patience, or subtlety. Simply... psychology. Pure chess.

The orange sun burnt tall in the sky, but was slowly setting. The temperature would drop twenty degrees in the next few hours, finally hitting about minus twenty by midnight. But they wouldn't be donning their furs today. They'd put it off for as long as they could, until it was colder than they could endure, in hope of finally surprising their prey.

He'd have to move quickly.

* * *

"Which way?"

"Left!"

The Doctor skidded round the corner, his hand jerking out to hit the wall, preventing him from slamming straight into it. He kept running, as fast as he could, bounding down the corridors in seconds.

He couldn't believe he'd told Myra as much as he had. He'd said too much. He'd perked her curiosity, and that was the worst thing he could have done. Myra was naturally inquisitive. She was always going to want to know more.

And then... and then _Mbea_...

_No_, his mind said, ferociously, _Don't think about it. __**Don't**__._

But he couldn't stop. Despite the heavy pounding of his hearts, his rough breaths, the fact that he _so_ wanted to keep his attention on the run, the sprint, the task ahead, he couldn't help but see her face, stubborn, and then hesitant, eyes falling to the floor, so human, turning her back - _It was my fault_ - and then the feel of her skin underneath his hand, warm from the climate, and her eyes are on his again, green as the Jade Pagoda, leaning in close, because she had to _understand_, she _had_ to understand.

Trust me.

Just trust me. Just know what I do, know that you did all you could, _more_ than you could, more than you should have been physically able to do, you went above and beyond for that little planet, Myra, despite all hell standing in your path. Know what I know, know that you're _incredible_, _fantastic_, that you care, that you hurt, that you bleed, that you're so... _amazingly __**human**_. Listen to me.

Trust me.

_No. __**You**__ trust __**me**__._

But there had been something wrong. She hadn't noticed. He had. He'd realised it in an instant, but what could he _do_ about it? The only thing possible was to fix this, to get this whole Spiridon problem over with, to get the hell off this planet... and then deal with little Myra Hull.

"_You remember that question I asked you? Back on Earth? Back in my kitchen?"_

What was wrong with that statement? He couldn't even say it wasn't just a mistake. Just a slip of the tongue.

"_Right. Of course. Saving the planet, as always."_

But that wasn't. Was it. That was deliberate. That was sure. Defined. She knew what she was saying there. For old times' sake it was, then. The Spiridons, the Daleks, Captain Jack Harkness... and Myra Hull. Just like old times.

_Trust me._

No. He couldn't trust her. Because, at the moment, she couldn't even trust _herself_.

* * *

The Doctor yanked himself back out of his head just in time to catch Langton's voice, reflexively obeying the order as he swung himself again around a tight corridor. He staggered to a halt in front of the containment system, his eyes already moving over it, calculatingly, his brain already ticking over options, plans, solutions, fallbacks.

"What do you think?"

"Oh, far too much for you to keep up with, I'm afraid." The alien cocked an eyebrow, and he shot her a smile, "Just be glad we've got an expert."

All the muscles in Langton's body seemed to stiffen. She turned for a second, and then seemed to decide against it: "The main computer needs passwords." She said, coolly. Then she paused, as if noticing the chill in her voice. She managed to adjust it as she walked away, "I'll get you through security."

"That'd be nice, thanks." He looked back at the hub, cocking his head to one side, thoughtfully, "Lets me give my full attention to _this_ beasty..."

Many ideas flittered through his head. So many it was almost hard to keep track. _Almost_. This _was_ _**him**_.

"How you doing on the security, Langton?"

"It's a complex system. It's made to be hard to open."

"Ah, one thing you _did_ do correctly."

The silence that followed was practically glacial. "Give me some time." She replied, finally, and it was obvious she was speaking through gritted teeth, "I can do it."

"That's good." The girl didn't reply, and he hesitated for a moment. It wasn't exactly guilt, this feeling. Not really. But... perhaps it was... a little concern. He glanced in her direction. Her cad mium red hair fell down across her face, hidden by the computer screen, webbed, blue-violet hands tapping furiously quickly at the keyboard.

"Thank you." He said, finally.

Katriel glanced up, silver eyes catching his. She paused, looking at him for a moment, as if judging the meaning behind the words. Then she nodded, slowly, and returned to her typing.

The Doctor hesitated, and then shook his head, returning to the task at hand. Myra's eyes glimmered over the back of his mind, but he forcefully pushed her away. Bad enough he had the _alien's_ eyes on his shoulder.

He couldn't cope with hers too.


End file.
